


Cardinal

by Freyjabee



Series: Somnium [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mashima Hiro's Fairy Tail Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, F/F, F/M, Miraxus, Multi, Organized Crime, jerza - Freeform, miraza - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-10 14:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 201,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11693832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freyjabee/pseuds/Freyjabee
Summary: They're assigned a case they didn't want, dredging pleasure houses and dark corners for a dangerous man the media is calling the Cardinal.





	1. Chapter 1

"The shrink said they're entitled and highly intelligent. When they put their victims in these poses, it’s done with care and love."

"Meredy’s psychobabble," Laxus griped.

"Yeah. Maybe, but it's a place to start," Jellal replied. He traded the crime scene photos for his coffee. He couldn't look at them for too long. Homicide detectives saw a lot, sure. There was something about seeing these girls twisted up with a crown of thorns digging into their skin that was unsettling, though.

Laxus took the photos from his partner and poured over them again. "This guy's more fucked than your average fucked, eh? All of his victims are escorts, all of them raped, all of them doused in distilled water and then decorated with a crown of thorns and left in positions of prayer. Class A psycho."

"Meredy says he's repressed. He thinks these girls are walking the wrong path or something."

"While he's fucking them."

Jellal looked around the mostly empty coffee shop and wished instead that they'd gone to _Be Frank_ , the bar not so far away from the 19th precinct. It was too early in the day for beer. ' _Fuck_ ' belonged more in a place like that, though. "Seems like. Maybe he hates himself and is taking it out on them."

"You're talking to Meredy too much."

Yep.

Laxus drummed his fingers on the table. "I've worked a lot of cases, man, but this…"

Jellal shrugged. "You don't want to do it?"

"Don't have much of a choice, do we?"

Not since it was shoved off on them, no. Captain said _Go_ and they went.

Laxus asked, "Where do we start?"

"Pleasure houses seem like a good place," Jellal said finally. "We'll hit the high-end ones first, see what we can scare up on the victim's last few hours of work."

"She wasn't working when she was done in," Laxus felt obligated to remind him.

"No. But someone'll know something."

Laxus drank his own coffee, thoughtful. "You know any place worth their salt isn't going to be forthcoming. Not about their clientele."

"They will be," was Jellal's only reply. He dropped some money on the table for their late lunch.

"I got the next one," Laxus replied, joining him in donning his suit jacket and his tan trench coat. Winter and early spring was one of the few times he didn't mind the monkey suit because it was one of the few times he wasn't sweating through it.

* * *

Erza had three rules.

She never slept with anyone she loved. She never let the men get rough. And she never kissed them.

Two of those rules _this_ man tried to violate almost on a daily. He wanted her to love him. He wanted her to kiss him.

They often did.

When that happened, when they got so _insistent_ that she knew it was past time to break it off, she made herself unavailable.

As she told him tonight, she was busy.

He didn't believe her.

He stood outside the Barrel with a fistful of money and a pantsful of testosterone, thinking that girls like her did what they did because money talked and bullshit walked.

He was kind of right.

But rules were what made the world go 'round and Erza followed hers flawlessly. She would _not_ feed into a demented illusion some men tried to build for her. She wasn't the type of girl to bring home to mother. Was _not_. She didn't need a saviour, though men (and women, she supposed, but more often than not it was someone with a rough face and a dick between their legs) spouted the 'I'll take care of you' bullshit.

She loved her job. This work could be dangerous and it paid well. It was thrilling most days. The Barrel only accepted a certain kind of clientele. Every single one of them was interviewed by the attending Matriarch. Things like careers, cleanliness, even appearance and self-care played a role in their admittance. The Barrel was more than just a pleasure house. It was a brand. It held the finest women and men. The happiest. Everyone was there because they wanted to be. People saved money to go to college, people did it on the side because they liked to be loved.

Everyone had their reasons.

Erza liked the power. Erza liked the vanity.

Her ego was as large as it was delicate. While she didn't want the men to tell her they loved her, she _did_ want them to look at her in a certain way, the way that told her that in their altercations she had all the control. There was a time in her life when she'd had none of it. She'd vowed then never to be that person again, the one that cowered and cried and got taken away from everything she knew.

She realized that her breaths were too short. Erza breathed deeply, held it, and after exhaling and not gasping like a fish out of water, approached the man named Dan. His eyes were pinned on her skin. The dress she wore tonight was more modest than most of her other clothing—tonight hadn't been _that_ kind of night. She'd been escorting millionaire Haru Mikazuchi to an opera. He was too old to do _much_ with her, more wrinkle than man in his ninetieth year. He held her hand and bought her expensive champagne, treated her like a lady straight out of the forties. The only thing he asked was that she wear a ruby-encrusted necklace and allow him to kiss her on the cheek when their night was done. He was sweet, a nice change from some other, more adventurous clientele.

Dan's eyes clung to her bosom. Somehow, she felt indecently exposed. She tugged her scarf more firmly over her shoulders to cover the V her dress made between her breasts, then crossed her white-gloved arms.

"Mr. Andrews." He was blocking the laneway between the Barrel and the apartment buildings where its employees rented. There was no getting out of saying _something_. Well. She supposed she could say _nothing._ That was a valid option. Rude, though.

"Erza. I thought you were busy this evening?" Dan had a pleasant voice. High-bred. Every syllable he spoke was pronounced with a flare that she found endearing first but now annoying.

"I was," she replied.

"Are you returning to the Barrel?"

"It's late."

A spark came to his eye; she wished she'd said yes. "Not so late. That's a lovely dress."

"Thank you. Excuse me." Erza stepped around him, heels digging into the cracks between the cobblestones and almost tripping her. She recovered as gracefully as she knew how before Dan ever had the opportunity to grab her arm and steady her. He still did.

"Thank you." Erza started away but was pulled up short again. Dan held her firmly.

"I wouldn't mind some company tonight, Erza. It's been a long day. An hour of your time."

Erza summoned patience and met his eyes so there was no mistake. "I told you I no longer wish to see you."

He flinched some. "Why?"

"You know why."

"That stuff I said that day… I was messed up, Erza. We were drinking too much scotch; I didn't mean what I said."

 _He_ was drinking too much scotch; she'd been near sober, which meant she remembered clearly what he said. _'I love you. Quit the Barrel and come live here_.' in his pompous little beach house where he could squirrel her away from his mother and father long enough to get her a new identity so they'd never know he'd brought an escort home.

"You're lying to yourself, Daniel. We need to not see each other anymore."

He frowned. "I'll pay you double."

"No, thank you."

"Triple, Erza."

"No."

"Then I won't pay you at all, just quit here and come with me. I'll provide everything you need."

"And this is the fucking problem." She pulled out of his grasp rather without ceremony and started on her way again. He was hot on her heels.

"Erza, please—"

"I don't need taken care of, Dan. I take care of myself."

"You do such horrible work. You're above this."

Of course he'd say something like that. _Calm. Be calm._ "Leave me alone."

"Erza, please." He grabbed her again and held her with fingers tight enough to make her arm ache.

She reeled on him. "Release me."

His fingers loosened.

She was on her way again.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Wait. Take me to your room in the Barrel." Hell he was persistent. "I'll be silent the whole time."

Erza turned around and found him illuminated in a sliver of moonlight. "Never. Never again, Dan. This ends here. If you harass me again, I'll have you banned from the Barrel." She whipped around on her heel, feeling like she'd accomplished something, and approached the faded brick façade that was the Barrel's apartments. They weren't the largest in the city; they were arguably the oldest, however. The stairs leading into them were concrete and broken, the ashtray drilled into the pale bricks was rusty and of questionable sturdiness. The only thing in good repair was the heavy steel door barring entry to any without a key. She got hers out of the black clutch bag she carried.

A hand closed around her wrist before she could put the key in the slot. Erza's heart jumped; not her body, she wouldn't let him see he'd caught her off guard. She turned to face Dan. This close, she could see the freckles on his nose and the spark of drunk in his eye. No surprise. He was always binging while burning his parent's money.

Speaking of money, he had a wad of bills in his hand, one of the largest Erza had ever seen. "This is more than enough. And this way, you won't have to cut it, Erza. _Tante Rosemary_ won't know you're doing business on the side if we don't enter the Barrel."

Some people _did_ do that. It was stupid and dangerous in Erza's opinion. Case and point here. "That's not how I work."

"I paid you enough. Tonight it is."

She pushed him. Sometimes, that was the only language that mattered. Dan stumbled back. He was drunk enough that he hit the brick wall on the opposite side of the entryway. His money went everywhere, fluttering to the ground like leaves. He sat there for a moment, stunned. Erza worked her key in the lock again. The door _clicked._ She pulled it open with purpose.

And had it torn out of her hands. Dan looked more manic than before. He took her wrist and used his body to bully her against the wall. "Stop, I'm trying to talk to you."

"Get _away_ from me," she hissed with all the venom she could muster.

He was unaffected. "Maybe I do love you, Erza. So what? Quit here and—"

She pushed him. Who knew he'd be so… limp? It was the alcohol making him difficult to remove, more like a sack of bricks than a man with any sort of balance to keep him from _draping_ on her. He tried to kiss her. She turned her face away and pushed again, this time finding a sensitive spot between his ribs to inflict some pain to help the process.

Dan hissed and called her something terrible. Erza worked her hand up between them and slapped him without thinking. He was violating her most important rule and that was much too far.

The sound resonated off the bricks and the concrete, punctuating the strained situation and somehow ramping it up to new levels. Dan's face, once it had lost its shock, moved into the realms of rage. He didn't hit her. He did grab her face, though, and push her roughly against the bricks. Her skin abraded and split open. It wasn't very bad, not even the worst she'd ever had, it did hurt, though, and it was startling. She'd been treated that way before and it wasn't something she cared to relive.

"Don't ever hit me. I pay you too much, Erza. I—"

She lifted her hand into the weave she'd made of her hair and grabbed the weapon she'd had specially made for _just in case_ moments like this. When she pulled out the modified brass knuckles, her entire do came undone in a wash of scarlet that smelled like jasmine. She hit Dan square in the jaw, tearing open his skin, and then the air smelled like iron. She kept going, despite the fact that he lifted his arms and begged her to stop, only ceasing when he was on the ground, unconscious.

Then, with as much dignity as she could muster, she stepped over his prone form and entered her apartment building. She made sure to pull the door firmly shut behind herself so Dan couldn't get any smart ideas and follow her inside. Not that she thought he'd be moving _anywhere_. Not anytime fast.

The second floor held three apartments. She opened number seven with her key and came in. Her roommate looked up from where she sat on the couch in a yellow nighty, feet up on the coffee table while she painted her toenails ice blue.

"Hey, Erza, how did—" Mirajane trailed off when she saw her. "What the hell happened?"

Erza lifted the hand she still clutched the brass knuckles in and touched her blood-damp cheek.

"Did Mr. Mikazuch do that to you? Did you tell _Tante_ Rosemary? Did—"

"It was Dan," Erza replied shortly.

Mira's mouth went flat. She put the top on her nail polish and stood, crossing the room to Erza's side. She touched the area with fingernails that were still damp; she was careful. "It looks really bad."

"He looks worse," Erza replied.

"Are you going to tell _Tante_ Rosemary?"

"I will."

"And the police?"

Erza sighed. "I should, I suppose, before the maggot gets up and spins his own tale."

Mira took Erza's clutch from her hands and the brass knuckles, careful with the blood. "I'll get on the phone; you go get cleaned up. I'll come in and help you in a minute."

Erza smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Her skin stung. Like she thought, it wasn't as bad as it _could_ have been. It was bad enough, though. Bad enough that she wouldn't be working for a few days until the cuts healed and the swelling went down. Unless she piled on the makeup of course, but she wasn't so interested in doing that. She could take the hit, she didn't have any impending expenses and she had some money saved. Sharing an apartment meant that she had that much more money at the end of every pay.

The door opened without being rapped on and Mira entered in a cloud of yellow silk. She came to the vanity with a cotton swab that smelled like alcohol and some Polysporin to help sooth the area, putting her butt on the dresser, her legs between Erza's, and leaned in. Her fingers were light and gentle. It still burned. The Polysporin soothed.

"I'm sorry this happened." Mira was softer than she used to be. She was on the verge of tears. "Some people are horrible."

"Some."

She rubbed the ointment in using slow circles. When she was done, she tucked Erza's hair behind her ear and told her, "The police are on their way. They'll probably want to talk to you."

Erza looked down at the track pants and tank top she wore, considering changing. She was too tired for that. So what if some stranger didn't see her perfectly groomed?

Mira saw through her. "You're beautiful no matter what you're in."

Erza's lips twitched. "Thanks."

Mira grabbed the soft toothed comb off Erza's dresser and came around behind her. There she gathered Erza's hair over her shoulder and ran the brush through her locks, breaking up the curls with each stroke. Erza watched her progress in the mirror.

"As soon as I met Dan, I knew he was clingy," Erza mused.

Mira's hand slowed but she didn't stop. "Yeah?"

"He just had this way of looking at me. He was needy. If I told him no before hand…"

Mira stopped brushing so she could lean down and wrap her arms around Erza's shoulders. The girl's hair smelled like honey and vanilla. Her lips were moist at the edge of Erza's, tasting like blueberry chap stick. "Don't blame yourself. People have the capacity to be a lot of things. Dan just chose to be his worst self."

* * *

"Someone didn't go quietly."

No. Not at all. Jellal stepped over the area splattered with blood, he dug the key from his pocket that one _Tante_ Rosemary had given him. It fit the lock like a glove as he suspected. The door opened silently on well-greased hinges.

"How much do you think every other streetwalker would give to have a setup like this?" Laxus mused.

Prostitution wasn't illegal in Magnolia, as long as you were affiliated with a residence like this. Given the pay and the benefits and the safety this kind of set up offered, sometimes the competitions were so ruthless, blood spilled.

"Too much." Jellal hiked up his utility belt before ascending the stairs to the second floor.

"Hey, you think we're going to get lucky?"

"Hm? Do I think this will lead us to our guy?" Jellal clarified. "Don't know. Guys get rough all the time." Mostly it went unreported because in the places where it happened those girls weren't supposed to be walking around. Places like the Barrel had bouncers with permits to carry to prevent any 'accidents.'

"Let's hope." Laxus knocked on apartment seven then leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. It was a stance he usually took for intimidation; tonight, Jellal thought he was striving for 'cool and collected' instead.

The door was pulled open a second later by a woman with hair so blonde, it was white. _Platinum_ , his mind supplied. He was more concerned with the scarlet behind her, though. He didn't need the other woman to turn away from where she looked out the window to recognize her. She did anyway and it was like a punch in the gut.

"Come in," Platinum's voice was distant. "And thanks for showing up so quickly, I—"

Erza's eyes bypassed her friend and Laxus, though the other man filled the doorway, and locked with Jellal's. He felt a little twist in his guts that had _something_ to do with her gaze, and something to do with the scrape on her cheek.

He didn't faun over her. She hated that. Besides, he hadn't even said hello, though he _had_ stepped into the apartment that smelled like creams and perfumes and incense. All of them reminded him of her. Olfactory memory was the longest and he was drowning in the scents. A very different Erza on a very different night tried to slip into his mind.

"—Dreyar, and this is my partner, Detective Fernandez," came Laxus' familiar rumble, perforating Jellal's dangerous dance with shadow and tequila.

Erza was faster at coming unstuck and acting natural. As Jellal _suspected._ She _was_ the mistress of lies. "Why are homicide detectives investigating an assault?"

Jellal cleared his throat and spoke over Laxus' response. "We think it might be related to another case we're working."

Platinum's eyes got large. "Those killings? Oh god, do you think Dan is responsible for those? I always thought he was a cretin—"

Laxus held up his hand before she could get rolling. "We're not saying anything. Let's just stick with the facts."

Jellal made himself useful, pulling his notebook from his utility belt and moving into the apartment. It wasn't what he'd imagined when he dared picture the place Erza flitted to _after_. There was a couch and a coffee table, a small white carpet in front of the former, and a porpoise incense burner on the window sill that didn't quite cover up the faint smell of marijuana.

He sat on the couch.

"By all means," Erza muttered, "Take a seat."

"Join me and tell me what happened."

Her brows twitched together. She was more stubborn now than when she'd first moved to the city and nearly refused him. The heavy look of her roommate and Laxus folded her like tepid metal, all weird angles and sharp edges. She'd cooperate, just not as fluidly as Jellal hoped.

* * *

"So what do you think now?" Laxus asked as they took the stairs two at a time and came out into the early hours of the morning.

Jellal breathed in the smell of moist soil and spring rain. The storm hadn't come yet but it was well on its way. "This isn't our guy."

"Nah."

This was amateur work. Unrequited love gone sour. Their killer was more refined than that. He didn't get sloppy and try to force girls on the steps of their apartment.

"Either way, Dan Andrew's got an escort waiting for him when he makes it home," Jellal said. "We'll have our answers soon as he sobers up."

"Tell me about that redhead."

He kept his eyes focused on the Barrel across the laneway. "What about her?"

"Was she the one? With the tequila and—"

"No."

Laxus snorted. "Alright, Hoss, whatever you say."

Jellal grabbed the Barrel's door and tore it back, bringing them into a world that was red crushed velvet curtains, bone-white walls, black floors. While it looked ordinary enough in the main office, the place held a quality that was dripping with sin. You could buy quite a lot here in the Barrel if you found the right person for the right price.

Jellal crossed the floor to the black desk where _Tante_ Rosemary sat in her furs with her black-as-night wig and her red, red lips. She wore something red that she _spilled_ from in every possible way. She was beautiful like an apple on the precipice of rot. Too sweet. Too soft. And yet also somehow perfect.

For all her rounded edges, there was also some mettle in her. You didn't successfully run one of the most popular pleasure houses in Magnolia because you were a pushover.

She stood from her red chair, away from her laptop and smiled a winner's smile. "Detectives Dreyar and Fernandez. Were my girls quite cooperative?"

Jellal slid the apartment's key across the counter. "Yes. Thank you, _Tante._ We've got a few of our own out looking for Daniel Andrews. I'm sure he's limping home, but if he comes back this way give us a call." He slid his card over the counter, too. "That's my direct line."

"It's late."

He didn't tell her homicide detectives didn't sleep as well as they should. He smiled widely, giving her his own version of a 'winner's grin' and said some bullshit about wanting everyone to be safe.

"That's very sweet of you."

She wasn't going to think so soon.

Laxus leaned against the counter and said, "How would you feel about giving us a list of your clients, along with that background check you do on them, eh?"

 _Tante_ Rosemary's lips fell. "That's confidential."

"We're conducting an investigation. You know girls have been killed, right?"

"Are you saying that you think one of my clients did it? Impossible. I've interviewed them all myself."

"I just want our psychologist to look 'em over with a professional eye," Laxus said.

"They have been. I'm a trained psychologist, Detective. I take offence."

Laxus looked taken aback; Jellal wasn't, he'd actually read the pleasure house casefiles before coming here.

"If you want my files, you'll need a warrant. All of my clients are very high-profile. They demand a certain discretion from me."

Laxus huffed air from his nose, and stood straight. Jellal grabbed his elbow before he could storm out. "Come now, _Tante_ , we can be reasonable."

"I know my rights, Detective, and the rights of my clients."

Jellal didn't like to do it to the Matriarchs but he applied some pressure. "Last week one of my friends in the Health Unit said the Barrel was late in getting their worker's physicals done."

She glowered. "That's a blatant lie."

Laxus hesitated for only a second before joining in. "I don't think he's saying that because he thinks you're not obeying the rules, _Tante._ It's just Heath Unit's real unorganized. They lose things _all the time._ "

Jellal screwed up his face thoughtfully. "Might take a week or two to sort out. Doctors are busy."

 _Tante_ Rosemary's expression got hard. "Does _Tante_ Alba know you treat other Matriarchs so?"

Jellal kept his poker face in place and betrayed _nothing_.

"You can't blackmail me," _Tante_ Rosemary said when she realized she wasn't going to get anything that way.

"Blackmail?" Laxus said, "I think my partner just wants to make sure that we're operating on the same page. We want everyone to be safe, right, pal?" He smacked Jellal's shoulder.

"Right." Jellal smiled. He knew it came out as cold as he'd hoped because _Tante_ Rosemary withered. "Girls are dying, _Tante_. It hasn't been in your establishment yet, but one of your best has been attacked. For the sake of your reputation, I think you should give me those names. Your clientele would be happy knowing that you're cooperating with the law."

She wrung her hands. "Do you really think he could be the Cardinal?"

"What?"

"That's what the papers are calling this killer. The Cardinal. The holy man."

"He's no holy man," Laxus bit out.

"I'm not here to pass judgment," she replied.

No, not her. "The names, _Tante_ Rosemary, please."

"I can only give you the ones from this week. It's a _breech_ of confidentiality," she said before Jellal could argue. "God knows the police aren't subtle. I won't have to worry about a clean herpes bill, my rooms will be empty because anyone that can pay _won't_ , too afraid of being roasted by the media."

"We'll be discrete," Jellal said.

"Pardon me, Detective, but like hell you will be."

"We can work with a week," Laxus said before Jellal could push it and burn to ash something good.

"Very well." She hurried to get a ledger from beneath her desk.

"Ever heard of a hard drive?" Laxus asked.

"Computers leave traces. Papers can be burned," she replied with her nose in the leather-bound book. She tore out a page and handed it over.

Jellal took it, folding it four times and tucking it into his pocket without looking. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"I hope your investigation leads you elsewhere," she replied.

Thinking of scarlet, Jellal said, "Me, too."

* * *

Mira turned off the lights and crossed to her own bed in the single room she and Erza shared, using the light of a _SpongeBob_ nightlight to guide her way. Erza was sitting on her bed, staring at the wall and had been for the last half hour.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" Mira suggested. Part of the offer was because she wanted to console a shaken Erza. A lot of it, though, was because she was sickly fascinated by Erza's penchant for violence. The danger she carried just below the surface. Mira couldn't stop looking for it.

Erza told her no. It wasn't long after, though, that she padded across the room. Mira was waiting for her, inviting her into sheets that smelled like laundry detergent. Erza didn't taste like lipstick anymore; she'd wiped it all away. Now it was toothpaste and mouthwash. Beneath her tank top and her shorts, her skin was silk. Her knuckles were bruised and rough. The redhead relaxed, counting on Mira to take her mind away from ugly places. Mira, likewise, counted on Erza to do the opposite.


	2. Chapter 2

Led Zeppelin's _When the Levee Breaks_ hauled Laxus out of a sleep that wasn't nearly deep nor long enough. For a solid ten seconds he lay there letting Robert Plant's voice take over him. Then he heard grumbling from down the hall and blindly slapped at the bedside alarm clock, trying to find the snooze. He missed twice and knocked the thing off the dresser the third time, enticing him to swear. He had more luck fumbling for the chord and yanking it from the wall to silence it.

The grumbling stopped.

Laxus breathed out and burrowed into his pillows again. Sleep was coming.

His cell phone trilled. It went on for thirty seconds, blaring out the instrumentals for Metallica's _Enter Sandman_. It was just about to hang up when Laxus cracked open his eyes and slid his finger across the face to answer. It took him just as long to get the phone to his ear, nearly dropping it.

"Yeah?"

"Hey," came Jellal's voice. "Our guys picked Daniel Andrews up just outside the entertainment district a few hours ago. He's cleaned up, ready for questioning."

Laxus lifted his head and peeked outside the window of his grandfather's home. It was early but not _so_ early. Seven thirty at most. Past time he got the hell up and got into the station. "I gotta take care of the old man first. I'll be in soon. Don't start the interrogation without me."

"Make it quick."

Despite Laxus' agreement, as soon as Jellal hung up, he just lay there, cheek pressed into his pillow, one arm trapped beneath his body and slowly going numb, the other still clutching his phone. It was because it was still in his hand that he felt when a text came through. He turned the screen up and saw Jellal's name above _get the fuck out of bed_. His partner knew him too well.

He threw the phone to the nightstand disparagingly and pushed himself from his pillow, otherwise he'd _never_ leave it. He found himself a pair of questionably clean track pants, slung over _the chair_ —every room he'd ever been in had one, stuffed in the corner, piled with nothing but clothes—and pulled them on.

The hallway between his room and his grandfather's was long and dark, made with drywall spattered with family photos that Laxus' father was glaringly absent from, and birch wood floors. He knocked on the white painted door before entering, though he knew Makarov Dreyar was well and awake. As he entered, he heard the TV going and wasn't all that surprised to see softcore porn. Laxus flicked off the TV without ceremony and faced his bedded grandfather's wrath.

Predictably, the old man spat, "I was watching that." It was possible to be the personification of fury when you wore a blue knitted nightcap and pajamas and were bundled up in a white duvet, though it took a certain talent that the white haired and mustached man had worked on for years.

"It's time for your pills."

The TV came back on. Laxus flicked it back off.

"Insolent brat, I'm _busy_."

"Busy. Bullshit. We both know _that_ hasn't worked for twenty years. It's time for your pills."

"What would you know of what works and what doesn't? Nothing. Now get out. I was in the middle—"

"You were in the middle of trying to get out of taking your pills. It's not going to happen." It was a tactic that had worked on him five years before, until Laxus realized that his grandfather was just being wily. He didn't give a fuck about softcore porn. He wasn't spanking his wrinkled old monkey; he was getting out of his heart medication because he was a stubborn fool.

The controller came flying at Laxus' head. He dodged to the sound of his grandfather's explicit instructions of, "Get out!" The remote hit the wall and exploded. Laxus ignored the flying batteries and the plastic backing that hit his foot. Sometimes, he thought his grandfather was going senile. Sometimes, like today, he thought he was just a bastard.

He came further into the room, ignoring the curses, and shook out the medication from the pill container. He took the glass of water beside the bed and handed both to his red cheeked grandfather.

"Out."

"Take them."

"I won't."

"You will or I'll make you."

"You can't threaten the old."

"That's where you're wrong," Laxus said.

"You're a bully, Laxus. I won't have it."

"I saw Porlyusica in the grocery store last night. I told her you were busy today so she couldn't stop by, but if you don't take this pill, I'll call her up right now and—"

It worked. Makarov grabbed the pill from his hand and popped it into his mouth. He swallowed even before he had the water, though he took it afterwards to clear his throat. He even opened his mouth, lifting his tongue to show Laxus that he'd taken it as promised.

"Thanks."

Makarov muttered something rude that set Laxus' teeth to grinding. He didn't feed into his grandfather's games like he normally might, thinking that he needed to get to the station before Dan Andrews decided that having a lawyer was a good thing.

"When will you be home?" Makarov asked as Laxus straightened and started for the door again.

"Dunno. Porlyusica is spending the day here, so she'll be your chef."

"You just said—"

"I lied."

"You are the worst grandson an old man could ask for. What have I done in my life to deserve such—"

Laxus closed the door behind himself, blocking out the barrage. His grandfather griped but as soon as Porlyusica showed, he knew he would light up and step out of the antisocial shell age had made for him.

He forwent his usual workout routine and shower because now there really was no time. He dressed in the attire that was expected of him. Making Detective had been a big deal. But. If he had the foresight to see that he'd be stuffed in a suit day in and day out, forced to wear shoes that were really too nice to be tromping through blood and bullet casings, he might have been a little more satisfied to stay in a uniform.

In the driveway sat his yellow Plymouth Road Runner. Long ago, it had stopped making him grin like an idiot to see it, though he was still heinously protective of its new coat of paint and original leather seats. All the same, he took it to a greasy spoon, got the largest cup of coffee he could and two stacked peameal breakfast sandwiches, one was originally for Jellal, though he ended up eating it, too.

* * *

The elevator dinged, depositing Laxus in the upper floor of the police department seconds before Jellal decided to say fuck it and start the interrogation without him.

"Finally," Jellal said. "We don't have much time before he decides it's time to lawyer up. Let's go."

Laxus started down the hall toward the interrogation room, feeling out of sorts. At the door was their psychologist in a black business suit, looking as pressed and professional as he thought he _should_ but did not. In her hand was what Laxus had to assume was Dan's casefile. "What's she doing here?"

"Deciding if Daniel Andrews could actually be our killer," Meredy replied before Jellal could.

Laxus glowered at Jellal. He shrugged. "That's what the boss wants."

He didn't bother telling his partner that psychology was a load of crap. He and Jellal agreed on most things, but this wasn't one of them.

"Detective Dreyar," Meredy said before Laxus could bowl past her. "You just…" She tapped her cheek.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Little sleep made him harsh.

"She means you have food all over your face," Jellal told him.

Laxus sacrificed the inside of his suit jacket to wipe it clean. "Thanks for telling me, man."

"Payback for eating my breakfast," Jellal replied and opened the heavy sound-proofed door.

Laxus wiped his face one more time, feeling stubble but no grease, and entered before the chipper psychologist could. The interrogation room was standard, painted grey, a long rectangular table, chairs bolted to the floor, overhead bulbs spilling harsh light that made everyone look sallow. It reeked of beer, though a look at their guest told Laxus that he was stone sober. He was a mess, though, his face split over his brow, his jaw, his lip and his nose was so swollen, his eyes were nearly forced shut. He tried not to wince, knowing too well men like Dan Andrews, entitled loudmouths that only needed a little bit of gasoline to ignite a wildfire of complaints.

"Finally. I'm hungry and tired."

Laxus gave him a look that could curdle milk. Daniel was too damn stupid to get it. Laxus dropped himself in the chair opposite the man. Jellal joined him, Meredy took up residence at Jellal's other side.

Laxus asked, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Because I was found drunk in a public place?" Dan played the ignorant card poorly.

"Because you assaulted an escort, Daniel. That's something we're taking real seriously lately. As of this moment, you're a suspect in a murder investigation, unless of course you can give us a reason to change that."

He didn't focus on his dire situation as Laxus expected, he was outraged by the accusation. " _Assaulted_ —"

Meredy forwent the typical route of interrogation and opened up her casefiles. She pulled out the pictures of the last murder victim and shoved them at Daniel. They weren't as graphic as they could be, the topmost picture taken from the shoulders up so all that was visible were her unseeing eyes and the blood running from her grotesque crown. "Do you know this woman?"

Daniel made a strangled noise. "What is that?"

"Answer the question, Mr. Andrews," Jellal said.

He was sweating. "I—"

"Be truthful."

"Yes, alright. I know her, but _anyone_ that frequents _Daisy's_ does. She's one of _Tante_ Daisy's best."

"Where were you two nights ago around one AM?"

Daniel licked his lips. "I don't know why I'm under interrogation. I'm the victim here. I was viciously attacked by a crazy escort last night. I'll be pressing charges, by the way—"

Jellal cut in. "No you won't."

"I will. I'll have the Barrel closed—"

"We have video surveillance of you forcing yourself upon Miss Scarlet on the stoop of her apartment building. You can press charges if you want, I don't think they'll stick. She was clearly defending herself."

Laxus slid a covert look Jellal's way. His liar's face was as good as he'd ever seen it. Daniel certainly believed him. He cracked like a rotten watermelon.

"Gentleman, please. I—"

"Where were you two nights ago, Mr. Andrews, around one in the morning. Start talking."

His dress shirt, rumpled and stained with blood, was stained with sweat now, too. "Alright. Fine. I was with Mirajane Strauss."

"Mirajane. Erza Scarlet's roommate?"

"Yes."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"What do you do with escorts, Detective?" Daniel asked.

Laxus sucked on his teeth. "I'm not in a very good mood today, _Daniel_. Answer the question or we'll start asking other escorts you've been with how you've treated them. I imagine that would hurt your father's political career."

"I recall he had a pretty good chance at mayor. If this were to get out, though… Can the Andrews family handle a scandal like that?" Jellal wondered.

"I think I need a lawyer," Daniel said.

"What you need to do is start talking," Laxus corrected.

"Unless of course you're guilty, then by all means, lawyer up," Meredy said, earning herself a disgusted look from both Laxus and Jellal that she weathered like an old captain.

"I'm not a killer," Daniel said. "I was paying Mirajane to—to have dinner with me. Afterwards, we went to her room in the Barrel, I did a rail, we took our clothes off. The end. By the time I got out of there, it was two. My driver took me home."

Laxus didn't give Meredy the satisfaction of a look of approval. "I guess Mirajane will substantiate your claim?"

"Yes. And _Tante_ Rosemary. She signed me in and took my money. It should all be in her book."

Laxus glanced at Jellal and recognized that sour look on his partner's face. Daniel was telling the truth, which was good for him but inconvenient for them.

"So I can go now?"

"No," Jellal said, standing. "We're holding you until your story can be corroborated."

"How long is that going to be?"

"As long as it takes," Jellal replied. "Let's go." He pulled open the door and ushered Daniel out. He was only gone for a minute; in that time, the silence was heavy.

"I don't know why you're so mad," Meredy said finally.

"We don't _encourage_ our suspects to get lawyers."

"It made him talk, though."

"You didn't know it would."

She smiled tentatively. "It was a calculated bet."

Jellal reappeared and closed the door. He mimicked Laxus' scolding. Meredy's smile fell away. "You shouldn't have lied about the video surveillance, but you did."

"It was a calculated bet," Laxus dropped back on her.

It didn't serve to mollify her, only bolstered her smile again. " _Anyway_. In my professional opinion, he isn't our killer."

"You don't say."

Laxus' sarcasm was lost on her. "No. He's got problems all on his own, sure, a propensity for obsessive compulsive behaviour, vanity and finds identity in his money and societal station. He had the potential to be the man we're looking for but the real markers just weren't there. He didn't talk about using escorts with any sense of shame beyond what you'd usually expect, he was worried about his father's reputation but not his own. And let's not forget he's hopelessly in love with Erza Scarlet. I'd be more inclined to believe he's our killer if he wasn't totally obsessed with her. Or I suppose if she was our only victim," she mused.

"Good. Golden. Write all that up and give it to the boss, alright?" Laxus said. "That'll make up for you crashing our interrogation and putting it in jeopardy."

"Jeopardy—I—"

Laxus stood; Jellal joined him, cutting in and saying, "If you could just look over the rest of those casefiles, Meredy, and put together a list of potential suspects, that'd be great."

"Of course, but—"

"I'm getting you more from Daisy's and Black Glove. Judge just signed the warrant this morning so you'll have lots to do."

Laxus read into what he was saying. No more interrogation crashing. Fantastic.

Somehow, Meredy looked both miffed and pleased.

"Let's go," Jellal said. "Got lots to do."

Laxus followed him out. They took the stairs instead of the elevator. That was good, he needed to get his blood pumping to wick away the sleepiness that clung to him like muggy fog. Over the sound of his shoes clopping, he asked, "Why are you so bushytailed?"

"Caffeine. And the Captain has been on my ass. It's been two days since this guy's killed and his pattern is escalating exponentially. Who knows how long we have until he strikes again?"

"You've been talking to the shrink again."

"Some of her ideas are good."

Laxus bowled right over responding to that. "Did we get anything from the lab?"

"The crowns are made from a species of rose called the Dog Rose. Meredy had a lot to say about that symbolism, too."

"I'm sure she did," Laxus said dryly. Dogs and gods and men and Mary. It boiled down to the same: the guy was fucked.

"Anyway. It's not a species that grows around here naturally, it's native across the pond."

"It's a long way from home."

"Don't get too excited," Jellal said. "It's popular. People use it all the time to make tea, syrups, jams. It's been planted in victory gardens and it grows on the roadside. All it needs is sandy, wet soil."

"So what you're telling me is that we have nothing." Laxus pushed open the door to the ground level parking lot and squinted in the bright sunlight. His poor mood wasn't improving.

"Not yet. They got skin from under her nails, too."

"DNA?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you the same thing they told me. Twenty-four to seventy-two hours."

Laxus sighed and said what they were both thinking. "It could be anyone's. Men pay girls like her to mark them up."

"Yep." Jellal went rooting through his pocket and pulled out the keys for their unmarked black Chevy Tahoe. The lights blinked. Laxus pulled open the passenger door. Last night's coffee cups were still in the holders. He dropped his empty cup on the ground to make room for his 'new' coffee. It was cold now. He'd drink it anyway.

Jellal slammed the door and started the engine. Laxus asked, "Where to first?"

"We'll get those papers from Black Glove and Daisy's, then visit Mirajane."

"We could just call her in."

"Could," Jellal agreed, "But not only do I want the piece of shit Daniel to wait, I want to see Mirajane caught off guard when we show up and ask about Daniel."

Laxus put back his seat and undid the window. Cool spring air served not to wake him up but relax him more. He spoke to keep conscious. "You think she'll lie?"

Jellal said, "Daniel smacked around her roommate. She was pissed about it. Wouldn't surprise me if she said what she needed to see some justice."

"Scarlet's not pressing charges?"

"If she does, it's not likely they'll stick. She's an escort for one, and Daniel's the one with a broken nose, gifted to him by an illegal weapon."

"Guess he got his."

" _Tante_ Rosemary won't let him back in the Barrel and by now he's probably banned from everywhere else, too."

Word moved quick. Laxus closed his eyes without meaning to. Sleep came. He woke only when Jellal threw the truck in park and shoved his shoulder.

* * *

Daisy's, a large green and white mansion on the edge of the entertainment district, was run by a woman of the same name. Like most of the escort owners, she was busty and carried a sense of mystery to her. Her establishment was meant for men and women that had a larger appetite. All of her employees were plump and beautiful, fuller than most and carrying themselves with a confidence that was alluring. Laxus looked at the few that flitted around the mansion where they not only worked but lived, and pretended to not while the Lady of the house, clearly done up for their arrival so early in the morning, looked over their warrant with an intelligent eye, pursing her mauve lips thoughtfully.

When she was through, she pulled out a book much like _Tante_ Rosemary's. _Unlike_ Rosemary, she took it to the back and made a photocopy. When she returned, she handed the page to Laxus and said, "I hope this helps. It's tragic what happened to Laura. She was one of my best girls."

"You'd think you'd want her killer caught," Laxus said, remembering how the woman refused her records the first time around.

"I would have been cooperative with the last detectives but I could see no threat to my employees and they had no warrant."

"Foresight," Laxus told her, more willing to scold now that he had what he needed in his hands.

_Tante_ Daisy said simply, "It's delicate business, please don't think too badly of me."

Laxus smiled tightly.

"Is there anyone on this list that caught your attention?" Jellal asked. He was better at hiding his judgement. "Admirers, men with records?"

"No one with a criminal record is allowed in my home. As for admirers, everyone loved Laura… She had men sending her things, but most of my girls do," Daisy replied.

"Anything to note lately?" Laxus prodded.

_Tante_ Daisy shrugged. "She received a gold necklace from a Simon Mikakuchi a week ago but he was always giving her jewellery."

Laxus took out his notepad and scrawled the name down. They hadn't spoken with Simon yet.

"Do you remember what the necklace looked like?" Jellal asked.

_Tante_ Daisy shook her head. "Sorry, gentlemen."

"That's alright." Jellal slid his card across the counter as he had last night. "Since we're cooperating now, if you remember anything else, feel free to contact me."

"It wasn't about not cooperating before," the woman said.

"It was about discretion, got it," Jellal said.

Laxus folded the list of names he held. "Thanks for your time."

If she said you're welcome, he missed it.

It was only after Jellal closed himself in the driver's seat again that he let his face fall into the realms of annoyance.

Feeding off the emotion too easily, Laxus said, "For the record, I fucking hate questioning these people."

"It's a dance," Jellal replied.

"I don't dance."

"No time like the present to learn."

"Was that necklace found on that girl's body?" Laxus asked.

"No. I don't even know if it was catalogued in her personal belongings."

"I'm liking this Simon."

"You haven't even met him."

"I like the idea of him."

Jellal put the car in drive. "We'll see Black Glove, talk to Mirajane, visit Simon."

And by the time that was done, it was going to be another long fucking day. He hoped Porlyusica tired his grandfather out. He wasn't in too much of a mood to fence the old man's gripes.

* * *

Black Glove's Matriarch, Asita, played no games once the warrant was in her hands, and was free with her information. That being said, she told them the same thing she told the last detectives that had this case: she'd seen no suspicious behaviour, all of her clients were _good_ people.

"We've got three dead girls. Someone's not a 'good person'," Jellal muttered when they were on the road again.

Laxus didn't answer, scrolling through the names both Matriarchs had given him. Some were the same. He found what he was looking for. "This Simon guy is looking better and better. He was at Daisy's and Black Glove."

"You know…" Jellal said thoughtfully, "Could be our Cardinal doesn't even visit the pleasure houses."

"No." Laxus shook his head. "Don't start with that shit. He's a regular." If he wasn't then they were wasting their time.

"Just saying."

"Well, don't." The damage was done; the seed of doubt was already planted.

"Meredy said that it's possible he dreams of going to the pleasure houses but he's not brave enough—"

"What did I just say?"

Jellal kept talking. "So he stalks them. The urge gets to be too much and he nabs them."

"Don't talk like that again," Laxus said dramatically. "It'll make our jobs harder if he's taking girls at random."

"Just a theory. I think he's been visiting them, too, but we should keep it in mind if this doesn't turn anything up."

* * *

Someone had used sodium peroxide to get the blood off the concrete steps outside the apartments beside the Barrel. The steps had probably never been cleaner. Laxus opened the door with the key he'd gotten from _Tante_ Rosemary and entered first, Jellal on his heels. Two o'clock had come and gone and he was only now beginning to feel slightly human, awake and alert enough to do his job properly. He'd crash again and sooner than he'd like, he knew, but for now, he was operating on all eight cylinders.

At door seven, he raised his hand and knocked. It took only seconds for the door to be pulled back by none other than Mirajane Strauss. Today she was in not a yellow nightdress but—somehow—something smaller and even more revealing. Purple lace overlaid only her body; there was no sheath as far as Laxus could tell.

"Detectives."

He focused on her face. "Miss Strauss."

She smiled with lips painted the same purple as her dress, rain clouds at sunset. "Just Mira's fine."

"Oh."

She raised a brow also dusted with purple. "I'm just in the middle of getting ready for my shift. Can I help you?"

"We need to ask some questions," Jellal cut in where Laxus fell short. "Can we come in?"

Mira said, "Erza's not here."

"That's fine. We're looking to talk to you," Laxus said.

Her lips came together; she stepped back. "Alright."

Laxus came into the apartment and kicked off his shoes this time, unlike last night. It was only polite. Jellal followed his movements and asked, "Where is Miss Scarlet?"

"Shopping," Mira replied.

"Shopping?"

"Groceries." She delivered that with a smile that was very _mind-your-own-fucking-business._

Jellal straightened and said, "I see."

Mira padded barefoot over parquet flooring to the couch by the window. She folded herself in the seat nearest to the kitchenette, looking, for all the world, like a spider queen, all beauty and grace and keenness that could translate to something very out of the realms of 'nice girl' if pushed. His appreciation of her, which had begun last night, birthed from the dips and generous swells of her body, extended to the intelligent glean in her eye. She was nobody's fool.

"What is it that you want from me?"

Jellal pulled one of the kitchenette's cheap wood chairs over and plunked down in it, notepad already in hand. "Were you with Daniel Andrews on the night of March second?"

She looked taken aback. Laxus prepared himself for a lie, thinking that the guile in her eye was all for show. She proved him wrong by saying, "Yes. We were together."

Laxus found a space on the wall clear of any pictures to lean against. "Tell us about it?"

Her mouth twitched. "I usually charge for details."

He gave her a flat look. She smiled.

"Just wanted to see if you'd blush." She got serious, "Keep this between us, please. He paid me to wear a red wig and one of Erza's dresses and her perfume. I told him no with the dress and the perfume but wore the wig—it's not that uncommon to have men ask me to change my hair colour. Looking back, though, I don't even know why I did it. I knew he was in love with Erza but… I thought it was harmless. We have a lot of men tell us that all the time." She looked genuinely remorseful.

Still looking at his pad of paper, Jellal asked, "Your roommate doesn't know about this?"

"I was afraid to tell her before and then I didn't want to creep her out after that stuff happened downstairs."

Laxus let Jellal take the notes; he was better at it, and asked, "When were you and Daniel Andrews with each other?"

She popped a purpled lip out. "We had a late dinner. Nine. We were done around ten thirty, then we went back to the Barrel." She looked at them suspiciously before admitting, "He wanted to do drugs. I let him but I didn't partake." She was very clear on that. "Then… we had sex. Afterwards, he wanted to watch a movie so we did. He left at like… quarter to two? Maybe?"

"He wanted to watch a movie?" Laxus asked.

"A lot of my clients want company, Detective Dreyar," Mira said. "They're mostly rich, socially awkward socialites or career men. They're lonely but they don't have the time or the skills to have a family. You must know what that's like being a detective, running strange hours. There's no ring on your finger."

He kept his face blank.

Her smile was a little sly, a lot coy. "I have a special rate for Lawmen if you ever decide you're lonely."

Jellal was no help, smiling meanly with his face still in his notebook.

"You're part of a criminal investigation, Miss Strauss," Laxus said when he was able.

"'Course."

Jellal finally came through. "Mirajane, I'll ask your Matriarch as well, but can you think of any client in particular that may be…"

"Insane enough to kill someone and give them a crown of thorns?" Mira asked bluntly.

"Yeah, that."

"I see a lot of people, so I can tell you that everyone's a little strange in their own way, but a killer? I'd like to think I'd know one if I ever saw one. I can't think of any."

"Sometimes people hide real well," Laxus said.

"Sometimes," she mused, "When you do what I do, though, you end up seeing the sides of people that they don't want to show anyone else."

Laxus could sympathize with the hollow look in her eye. As a homicide detective, he saw plenty in people he never wanted to see; that he never wanted to believe existed.

Mira pushed her platinum hair from her shoulders. "Is that all, gentlemen? I have to finish getting ready."

Laxus looked to Jellal. His partner flipped his notebook closed. "I think that's it for now, Mirajane. If we need anything else, I'm sure you'll be cooperative?"

Her teeth flashed. "Of course, Detective."

Jellal handed her his card; he was much more liberal in giving it out; Laxus could do without his phone ringing all day. Let Jellal deal with the _less-than-helpful_ citizen calls made by people who thought _every-little-thing_ mattered. There was one of them in every investigation. Without fail.

Mira stood, nearly spilling from her dress when she leaned forward. Laxus found elsewhere for his eyes. It was in vain; Mira already caught him looking. Her smile was large. "I don't have many detectives come through. Does the MPD tell you not to partake?"

"Frowned upon," Laxus heard himself say.

Somehow, Mira was up and across the room, in front of him. "Frowned upon but not forbidden? Don't dress like a cop when you come by and no one will know. You know how to do that, right?" She tugged the black tie that—most days—Laxus felt kept him together. He laughed awkwardly because honestly, what the fuck else was there to do?

She fixed the tightness of the tie's knot. " _Tante_ Rosemary is very discrete, and tells us to be, too. Your secret would be safe with me."

"Mirajane. _Police investigation_ ," Jellal said, like those two words would spell it all out for her.

She reached around Laxus to the TV stand where she plucked one dark purple card from an array of them. She tucked it into Laxus' breast pocket with a smile that was as sweet as it was malicious. "When that changes, don't forget about that special rate." She released him and said in a less sultry voice, "Do you need anything else from me?"

Laxus cleared his throat again. "No." The word cracked. Jellal not-so-subtly gathered in a lungful of air and released it.

Mira waved them toward the door. "Until next time."

Laxus hoped that there wasn't a next time.


	3. Chapter 3

All season tires bit into the interlocking brick driveway. Jellal guided the Tahoe up to the Mikazuchi front door, headlights slicing through the twilight while the smell of wet spring soil and mulch came through his open window. It wasn't supposed to be so late but like the tide, the day had slipped away. He couldn't even say where the time went. Talking to the Matriarchs and then Mirajane had been a day-killer. Not that it hadn't been worthwhile. Watching Erza Scarlet's roommate make Laxus squirm had been as entertaining as it had been informative. She wasn't a liar, of that he was sure, which meant that Daniel Andrews wasn't their guy. Which was disappointing. But disappointing or not, the truth was the truth. He wanted answers and he wanted them fast; he wasn't going to make shit up and force the puzzle pieces to fit if they didn't, though. A call into the station had the man released with a strict warning not to venture into the Barrel again.

Jellal didn't let himself get frustrated. Maybe Laxus was right. Maybe this Simon _was_ their guy.

Speaking of Laxus, he was dozing again, though he'd been alert fifteen minutes ago. He was like a fucking pendulum. Jellal wasn't gentle with the breaks. Laxus' face slid across the window before he came awake.

"Mm."

"We're here."

Laxus rubbed his eyes then swiped his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Jellal left him in the truck to get himself together, sure he'd be along shortly.

The Mikazuchi mansion was one of the nicest in town; it was also one of the oldest, though it had undergone a series of renovations over the years. Things like the white brick facade was all new, as was the generic fountain and the gardens that would eventually be overstuffed with nodding tiger lilies and roses so bright, they were as pomegranate seeds, glistening drops of red when they bloomed in the summer.

"Roses?" Laxus asked over the sound of the Tahoe's door closing.

"Wrong kind," Jellal replied, following his eyes to the short twisted and thorny bushes that lined the walkway. "Dog rose is a vine that grows up trees and houses." He scoured the bricks as he spoke, wondering if the Mikazuchis would let him wander around the grounds looking for the roses. It wasn't likely, and without probable cause, they weren't going to get a warrant.

When he was still steps from the front door—a double walnut monstrosity with a goddamn lion knocker—the barrier disappeared and a butler in a black suit and tie appeared. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

Jellal almost laughed. That accent was straight out of the movies, exactly what you'd expect from a white-haired, mustached man. It was like he stepped into _Batman_. He wanted to ask if _Master Simon_ was around but didn't think it'd go over well. He tugged his badge from his belt and flashed it. "I'm Detective Jellal Fernandez and this is my partner, Detective Laxus Dreyar. We were hoping to speak with Simon Mikazuchi."

The butler, bless him, studied the badge in great detail. Finally, when he'd decided that they were on the up-and-up, he said, "Just a moment."

The man closed the door while he went to find Simon. Jellal put his badge back on his belt and tucked his hands into his pockets. Laxus did his usual, taking up residence on the wall.

"Hope this isn't a waste of time."

The door opened and Simon appeared. One look at him and Jellal was inclined to think that they were on to something. Though he was dressed in something that was preppy and fresh—a blue golf shirt, a pair of slacks and leather shoes that were nicer than any he'd ever dare buy, even for a wedding, his own or anyone else's—he looked disheveled. His dark hair stuck up at odd angles, his face was scratched and bruised, and there was an eyepatch over his left eye.

"Mr. Mikazuchi," Jellal said, doing his best not to gawk like Laxus was. He gave the man the same spiel he'd given the butler.

Simon said, "Is this about Laura?"

"Right on the money," Laxus said.

Simon stepped out and nodded to the left. "Let's go into the gardens. There's a place where we can sit and talk there."

Laxus caught Jellal's gaze and rolled his eyes not-so-subtly. Jellal didn't join in on the fun. He waved Simon on ahead and fell into step beside him, moving out from beneath the overhead awning into the twilight world again. Early spring peepers sang from an as-of-yet invisible pond, trilling for mates. Mourning doves chimed in. Over the sounds of their steps crunching a crushed quartz walkway, Jellal heard his keys jangling together, and above _that_ , Laxus' phone. He glanced back and saw Laxus pull it out, mash in a text and shove it into his pocket again. That annoyed look on his face meant that it was about one person: Makarov.

Simon stopped by a marble picnic table lifted on a stone slab. Finally, the pond was in view, its edge lit up by sky-blue and white solar lamps. It was peaceful here. Jellal sat on one side of the table, Laxus joining him, while Simon took his place on the other.

"So," Simon said, splaying his hands out before them. Jellal not-so-subtly looked for gashes potentially caused by thorns. He wasn't so disappointed, Simon's knuckles on his right hand were busted up. "I suspect you're here because you've realized that Laura and I were in a… relationship."

Not exactly, but Jellal wasn't going to let on to his ignorance. He pulled out his notepad. "Can you describe your relationship with Laura?"

Simon admitted, "She was, up until a week ago, my fiancé."

Fiancé. Huh. "It would be difficult to marry an escort," Jellal prosed.

Simon waved him off. "She was going to quit."

"And then you two would run off into the sunset together?" Laxus just couldn't keep his sarcasm under wraps. Simon weathered it well.

"Something like that, yes."

Laxus saved some face. "It's becoming more commonplace to see escorts on the arms of men, but there are a lot of people that still frown upon that."

"My family is forward thinking, detective," Simon replied. "My father gave us his blessing."

"And your sister?" Jellal said, not sure _where_ his line of questioning would take him, but willing to trek along, even if that meant blindly.

Simon finally looked uncomfortable. "Kagura…"

"Not such a fan?"

Simon shook his head.

Laxus asked, "So what happened a week ago? You buckled under the family pressure?"

Simon's cheeks went pink. "No."

Jellal said, "I'm going to remind you that this is a murder investigation, Mr. Mikazuchi. Forthcoming is your friend."

He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a gold chain and a similar ring, both decorated with roses and diamonds, and placed them on the table. "Last week, Laura gave these back and told me she was in love with someone else."

And that would explain why they weren't found on her body. One mystery down. Another one was birthed. "Who was the new guy?"

"She wouldn't say."

"And you didn't know? Didn't pry in her phone or stalk her or—"

"No."

"Truth now, Simon," Laxus pushed.

"I didn't get a chance to look, Detective. She wouldn't see me again. And then…"

And then she was dead. Jellal sucked his teeth. "Did she have any enemies, or special admirers?"

"Everyone loved Laura. She had men sending her stuff all the time," Simon said.

"And that didn't make you mad?"

"I was in love with an escort, Detective. Jealousy doesn't really have a place there, does it?"

"Jealousy doesn't have much of a place anywhere," Jellal said. "But it makes one."

Simon got truthful. "I was only jealous when she told me she was in love with another man. She saw other men, sure, she had sex with them. But what we had was different. Until…"

"Getting back that jewellery… That probably made you angry. That's expensive stuff."

"Yeah, I was angry," Simon said.

"People have killed for less."

"I told you—"

"Have you visited Black Glove recently?" Laxus spoke overtop of him.

Simon's face lost the intense glower. "Yes."

Very rarely had they had so many truthful confessions. Though, to be honest, their investigations didn't typically take them the route of the city's finest. Usually they were dredging through drug houses looking for murders. Nothing piqued people's ire quite like drugs and money.

Laxus said, "Do you know much about dog roses, Mr. Mikazuchi?"

"Dog roses? No. Detectives, I didn't kill those girls," Simon said before the accusation could be made. "I was out of the country when those other killings happened. I can provide receipts to that effect. As for Laura… I don't have an alibi, but I loved her. It didn't matter that she said there was someone else. With Laura, there always was."

The sad part was, Jellal actually believed him. He fit, though—until he could get those travel receipts anyway—so he kept on the tracks. "What happened to your eye?"

Simon touched the bruised area. "Riding accident this morning."

"Fiancé is found dead and you're riding around?"

"Kagura thought it'd take my mind off things," Simon said.

"Those look like nail scratches to me," Laxus said. "Maybe from Laura?"

"It was the _ground_. We were there on the driveway when it happened, making our way back to the barn," Simon said, finally defensive. "If you want, you can speak to the physician that attended me, his name is Dr. Carlo at the Rivenglen Clinic."

While Jellal scribbled that all down, Laxus turned his lip up. "We got skin from beneath Laura's nails, DNA's coming from the lab in a day or two."

"She fought back?" Simon asked, forgetting to be wary.

Dissatisfied with his honest and heartfelt question, Jellal stood without answering. "Get those travel receipts to us, Mr. Mikazuchi. While you're at the station delivering them, I suggest supplying your DNA to the lab. I'd like to scratch you off the suspect list."

"Of course."

Of course he'd say of course. No fuss or griping with Simon Mikazuchi. How fucking disappointing. To justify what was shaping up to be a waste of time, Jellal said, "Stick around town. We may have more questions."

"Yes." Simon had the look of a man that had been struck by lightning, stunned, a little horrified. Still, he was polite to the last, rising and leading them from his property. At the truck, he said, "I hope you find whoever killed her, Detectives."

Jellal gave his best cop smile, helpful, charming, cooperation-instilling, and said, "Us, too."

With the Tahoe's doors closed, the fast-approaching night was blocked out. Laxus was already inside, waiting. He had stuff to say; he waited until the engine had started and they were moving past the as-of-yet dead gardens to say, "Do you think those were defensive wounds on his face?"

Jellal glanced up and saw Simon in the rear-view mirror; just seconds later, twilight stole his visage away. He sighed. "Dunno. We don't have much to go on. If they are and they belong to Laura, we'll know."

Out of his periphery, he watched Laxus put his head back against the headrest and look up at the grey ceiling. "I think it's going to be a bust."

"Me, too."

"There seems to be a lot of dead ends in this case."

"We just started."

"My statement stands."

"Well," Jellal said, "Guess you know why it was passed on to us." He knew what to say to get his partner interested in the chase again. No one was vainer than Laxus Dreyar. Maybe himself. His need to win didn't have to be stroked, though, it was always running full-throttle.

Laxus checked the clock. "Are we calling it?"

It was quarter to eight. Not so late when most of your leads trolled the midnight hour.

Laxus read him like a book. "I have to check on the old man before we do anything else. He's been harassing Porlyusica. She called Wendy over and he's been harassing her, too. Wendy's been texting me for the last half hour. She just escaped to let Beau out."

"What's he getting his panties twisted for?"

Laxus rolled his eyes. "Doesn't want to take his meds. Ever. Won't sleep and when he does, he wakes up when I get home and is up for most of the night. Fuck."

"Still won't put him in a home?"

Laxus glowered. "Yeah, we talked about that. I heard how I was the 'worst grandson in the world' again."

Jellal kept his smile small; they both knew Makarov Dreyar didn't mean it. He was just ornery as fuck. "He misses being a cop."

"He had his chance," Laxus said.

Sure he did, and he'd done a good job at it, too, but men like Makarov Dreyar needed something to do until they were dead, otherwise they got crusty and bored. "I'm going to make some phone calls, get in touch with a few old friends, see what they know, but we'll call it a night."

Laxus looked torn, half glad to hear the news, half disgusted with himself for calling it in so early.

"We have no other leads," Jellal reasoned. "Let me make my calls, you get some sleep. If I hear anything, I'll give you a ring and we'll hit the street."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jellal said. "The only thing you were good for today was tripping over yourself."

Laxus accepted the jab without retaliating, which was unusual.

"You going to call her?"

"Hm?"

"Mirajane Strauss," Jellal clarified.

"She's a witness."

"In a case that fizzled up and went nowhere," Jellal said. "She's not part of an investigation anymore. Erza's not pressing charges, neither's Dan, and since Dan's not our guy… Suddenly, Mira's not a conflict of interest."

"If I called her, I risk getting the Fernandez treatment," Laxus said after a beat. "I'm too partial to my cash and my gun for that."

"Low blow," Jellal griped.

"That's payback for watching me sweat."

"There's worse things to sweat about," Jellal said. "And you heard her, _very discrete_."

Laxus glowered. "What are you so interested in this for, huh?"

"You're cranky."

"Cranky? What are you, my virginal grandmother?"

"Alright. Let's think about what we just said."

That earned him a middle finger. Unaffected, he pressed down on the accelerator. "Doesn't hurt to think about."

"Captain would have my balls on her wall."

"You _do_ remember what civvies are, right?"

"So?"

"And you heard Mirajane. _Tante_ Rosemary is _very_ discrete." He couldn't tell if he was teasing anymore or if he really wished his partner would go for a round. He had been exceptionally pissy lately.

* * *

It was with mixed feelings that Jellal pulled his midnight blue Charger up the driveway to his apartment building (a twenty-seven floor monster built when apartments like this were _first_ becoming popular _way_ back in the early 1920's). Like Laxus, he was tired. Two days into a case was nothing, not really, but it wasn't too often they got serial killers. Usually, the people they hunted killed once out of passion or rage and were too stupid or too shocked to think of killing again. This was different.

With the Charger in its designated space, Jellal weaved through the full parking lot to the front door just as it opened. A girl with vibrant blue hair popped out. She saw him and passed a smile his way.

"Wendy," Jellal said when he was close enough. "How was Beau?"

"She missed you for most of the day. We went to the park, though. She had fun."

"Thanks for checking up on her. You going to pick your grandma up now?"

"Before her and Mr. Dreyar kill each other," Wendy said dramatically.

"You want a ride?"

Her smile only widened. "No. I got my G2 the other day. Granny let me take her car."

Jellal followed Wendy's finger to the giant pink 1950 Cadillac that was parked in the _Visitor_ parking. Somehow he'd missed it coming in. "You like that thing?" It was a boat if he'd ever seen one.

Wendy shrugged. "It doesn't dent very easy. And I have nothing else. So…"

Beggars couldn't be choosers. Her comment about it denting encouraged him to say, "Drive carefully. And… Go out this way." He pointed toward the _Entrance_. Away from his car.

Wendy's expression turned plaintive. "I'm not that bad."

Yeah. Clumsy Wendy. "That's what I said when I first started, too." He'd wrecked his fair share of cars in his time. Wendy opened her mouth to object; Jellal breezed past her because this really wasn't helping his resolve to work anymore tonight. "Thanks again. Night."

"Night," Wendy called behind him.

He waited in the lobby for the Cadillac's lights to come on and for it to pull out the entrance like he suggested, and then he started for the elevator, taking it to the twenty-fourth floor, apartment number three-oh-two.

A loud bark greeted him before he even got the key in the door. He wished Beau, his ninety-pound German Shepherd, would be quiet. _Technically_ , he wasn't allowed to have a dog in here. _Technically_ , he didn't care all that much as long as she didn't bark her head off, thinking no one would complain.

She came from a house Narcotics raided three years ago. She was a puppy then, her owner shot when he pulled a gun on the cops. Jellal took her before she could make her way to the pound. Who the hell knew why? It wasn't like it was _easy_ to have a dog running the hours he did. Wendy was a big help; honestly, she took care of Beau more than Jellal did, stopping in before and after school, and sometimes even at lunch to take her out for walks or to the dog park. He'd thought about giving the dog to Wendy more than once; Porlyusica is what stopped him most days. She didn't strike him as a 'dog person'. But, he'd been wrong before. Could be, the old crone got along better with beasts that couldn't talk back.

When he opened the door, Beau was there waiting for him, sitting primly like he'd taught her, furry tail thumping loudly against the floor. She only moved when he reached down to pet her head, and then it was to lean heavily into his legs, covering him with blonde and black fur. It was shedding season, though, with Beau, it _always_ seemed to be shedding season. He didn't get mad; pants were pants, even if they were pressed and creased and 'professional' looking enough to paint the Magnolia Police Department in a fine light.

Coming in, he closed and locked the door, kicked off his shoes on the brown and bristly _Welcome_ mat Makarov Dreyar had bestowed upon him when he'd moved in (he thought it was a re-gift because the odd time Porlyusica was over, she always scowled first at the mat, and then at Makarov), and shrugged out of his blazer. That went on the back of the green recliner in front of his thirty-two-inch flat screen, his black tie he yanked off and hung on the key holder mounted on the wall beside the kitchen doorway. It had survived another day without getting food spilled on it; he'd take his chances again tomorrow. His shirt, too, got the same treatment, this time finding home draped over the burnt orange linoleum countertop, straight out of the seventies.

Down to a white undershirt and his slacks, he grabbed a bowl of taco fixings and ground beef from the night before and mixed it all together with less ceremony than he would have if he had guests. Tonight, there was just Beau to wait patiently for her portion. Jellal stopped pretending not to share with her long ago. He never stuck to his scruples.

He ate without enjoyment, too tired to really taste. When he was done, he emptied the rest into Beau's bowl, washed his dish, and carted his body to his double bed. By the time he was there, Beau was finished with what he'd given her. She jumped onto the mattress, waiting patiently for Jellal to kick off his pants and fall into his sheets in his shorts and undershirt. He set his phone alarm for twelve before closing his eyes. That'd be a few hours of sleep anyway.

* * *

When his alarm went off, he snoozed it twice. The third time, he opened bleary eyes and lifted himself from the bed—a difficult feat with Beau leaning into him so hard. She grumbled. He grumbled with her. To make sure he actually got the hell up, he reached for the caffeine pills on his nightstand and popped one. It got stuck in his throat; swallowing rhythmically helped work it down. He'd need to be alert where he was going tonight because despite what he'd told Laxus, he thought phone calls were a waste of time. People lied too easily when you weren't looking into their eyes. He didn't have the patience for lies. There was a dark corner in Magnolia where he was sure he could get answers to some questions if he asked just the right way.

First, he needed to find some civvies that would help him fit in and then take his dog for a walk; who knew how long he was going to be gone?

* * *

When he'd been young, Jellal spent most of his time people watching by the MPD station, figuring out the 'cop walk', and not because he wanted to make a career out of it. No, in those days, he wanted to spot the heat from a mile away, before they ever spotted him. He had been pretty good at it. One of the best, to be sure.

Because of that, as an adult, he spent most of his time in civilian attire trying not to walk like he had his backup pistol jammed into a holster on his ankle, like he wasn't watching every nook and every cranny for something awry. He could help the way the street breathed around him no more than he could help but catalogue it. Because not doing it was a lost cause, he tried to do it covertly; five kilometers in and he was sure there was some little urchin just like he'd been that had his number. _Tante_ Alba probably knew he was on his way. Knowing that still made it damn disappointing when he turned on Kurt Street and the old church doors opened, the Matriarch stepping out on the puckered concrete steps to greet him.

_Tante_ Alba was as beautiful today as she'd been fourteen years before, when scrawny thirteen-year-old Jellal needed something to eat and she'd offered him a piece of bread for the price of watching for any boys dressed in blue coming their way. Time had been kind to her. And makeup, he supposed. The night was also generous, caressing her ebony skin and setting it aglow. Her gold jewelry glittered, tiny suns in orbit around her throat and her wrists. Her ankle, too, Jellal knew, if he could see below the traditional brightly dyed wrap she wore. She was as beautiful as Asaase Afua, a goddess in her own right.

" _Tante_ ," Jellal said as he approached.

Alba's smile was warm. "Jellal. What a pleasant surprise. You are not the lawman I expected to see this night."

"Why would you be expecting any lawman?" Jellal asked.

_Tante_ Alba's eyes crinkled. _Finally,_ she looked like she'd aged. "A Mr. Jordan visited the Prayer last night. He left unsatisfied, palms and cheeks stinging."

Jellal interpreted her odd way of speaking. "He smacked one of your ladies?"

"One of my men when they'd told him he'd had too much," she corrected. "He informed me he was a defence lawyer and threatened to expose us."

Not for the sex trade, though Jellal was sure _Tante_ Alba wasn't paying all of the taxes she should be, but for the drugs. Everyone used when they visited the pleasure houses but this one in particular. That was a generic statement, however, this one was made with years of experience, observing men's and women's behaviour when they visited the Prayer. Sometimes they used to relax. Sometimes, they used to block out the shame. Sometimes, they used so that it was easier to pretend that they were with someone else. Sometimes, they just wanted to heighten the experience. Everyone had their reasons.

The police knew about the excessive drug use. They even kind of knew that _Tante_ Alba sold it right here in her establishment, if you bought the special package. She'd never been stopped because they could never find the stash when she was raided and Jellal never told a soul. Her secret was worth quite a bit to them both. He wouldn't be the one to ruin a good thing, especially when _Tante_ Alba took such special care to ensure that no one ever overused.

"Why would he threaten to expose you?"

"Because some men don't know when they've had their fill, Jellal."

Some. "I don't think you'll have to worry about him going to the police," he said after consideration. "Ewing Jordan is a drug defence attorney. It'd ruin his career."

"All the same, it never pays to be careless."

No.

"What brings you to my stoop, Jellal? Come to partake? Or have you left your badge behind to watch the streets for me again? No one ever got by when your eyes scoured the night."

He smiled. "I can't live off bread rations any longer, _Tante._ Got bills to pay."

"I would properly compensate you."

In a few days' time, that would sound like a tempting offer, he was sure, if they couldn't nab this guy quick. "I'll keep that in mind."

She winked one gold-dusted eye. "See that you do." She adjusted the skirts of her wrap. "Do you need a room? I have a few available, the night isn't so late."

"I'm actually here for work," he said before she could dangle any other carrots before his nose. "You've heard of the Cardinal."

"Everyone has heard of him," she replied. "I'm not sure what that has to do with me, though."

"He's wrapping his victims in crowns of thorns, _Tante,_ and forcing them into positions of prayer." He looked around her body into the converted church. There was a time when she'd had picketers stationed out front, the place had been vandalized more than once. The same people that protested the brothel's existence were too fearful to burn it down, so it remained where it was. "Pardon my saying so, but sacrilege is your breath of life."

"Sacrilege? This god is not my god," she said with a glance up at the ivory cross overhanging the door. "But I'll admit, it does attract certain sinners."

"Any worth noting?"

"All sinners are worth noting," she informed him. "Without resistance, they get bolder and bolder with every turn of the sun."

He didn't get frustrated with her avoidance, he knew what to expect when he embarked on his mission. "Have any of your people gone missing?"

"None that haven't found their way back."

He raised his brow. "Found their way back?"

"Last night, a man approached one of my ladies and tried to force her to go with him."

"Into a vehicle?" Jellal asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "Not that was seen."

"Did she see his face?"

Again, _Tante_ Alba shook her head. "She saw a rosary and that was all. It was dark last night."

Frustration was getting harder to smother. "Why didn't she report this?"

"Not all police officers have been kind to people like us, Jellal, despite the law."

No, not everyone agreed that brothels should be legalized. "Can I talk to her?"

_Tante_ Alba shook her head. "She is working."

"This is a police investigation, _Tante_."

"I see no lawman here. Just a man in plainclothes."

He didn't remember her being so damn difficult. "Please, _Tante_."

"No. But I will speak with her. Perhaps you'll have a visitor tomorrow."

He knew the stubborn set of her mouth. The decision was final. "Well, can I please have a copy of the list of your clientele?"

"No."

Just no. The Prayer was considered even more taboo than the other pleasure houses. People approached its step wearing masks and hoods so no one could see their identity. They paid well to be there, and in turn, _Tante_ Alba paid her whores well to be quiet. Jellal had never heard of any of them threatening to blackmail their clientele. He thought there was a reason for that, though in the few years he'd spent watching the streets for police officers, he'd never had reason to suspect _Tante_ Alba of violent behaviour. Not that he thought she'd be doing it herself. She paid guards to keep everything running smoothly. They were the kind of men that could make people disappear.

"People are dying."

"People die every day."

He tried tugging on her heartstrings. She wasn't without mercy. "That's not what you said to me when I came to your steps begging for food."

"You were a child."

"I needed your help, and I still do."

Her glossed lips came together. "I have done plenty for you, Jellal."

"I've done for you, too."

"We owe each other nothing."

"Women are being _murdered, Tante._ And you have the power to stop it."

She said, "If the devil wants to take, then let the devil take."

"You don't believe in god, but the devil is fine?" He didn't know why he provoked her.

"Devils are you and me, Jellal."

Substantial. Without glamor or mystification.

"Please change your mind. I don't want to have to come back here with a warrant."

She started to retreat back into the church she'd made her own. "I will speak to my girl. It was, for a time, nice to see you again."

For a time. Jellal didn't return the sentiment, sure that they hadn't seen the last of each other.

* * *

Magnolia was a large city, the kind of large that provided anonymity. It had kept her from his path for years. That they should collide twice in as many days ventured outside of coincidence. Jellal took it for what it was, though, as the clouds overhead parted, allowing the light of the moon to ignite hair so red, it ventured into the realms of unnatural. Though it had only been brief, he remembered the way that blaze felt sliding through his fingers. It was a memory that stood out in an ocean of memories for reasons he couldn't quite place.

She wore tall leather boots tonight, jeans, and a white crop top below a red leather jacket. The top's material fluttered with every step she took, allowing only glimpses of her skin to be viewed when the gentle spring breeze permitted it, making her seem somehow both cheeky and modest.

He shook the thoughts from his head in favour of an intelligible greeting. "Miss Scarlet."

Erza's eyes lifted from where she watched the pavement. Her fingers twitched toward her pocket. The light of the moon shifted just right, allowing her to identify him and her fingers relaxed. "What are you doing here, Detective?

He felt his mouth moving and heard himself say, "Jellal's fine."

Erza's lips quirked as she fought with something snarky. It dissolved. "Jellal."

"I was just visiting an old friend."

"At the Barrel?" she asked.

Jellal looked around and realized for the first time that his feet had taken him on a path that bypassed the pleasure house. "No. I was just…" _Just_ what _?_ "Trying to understand our Cardinal."

One of her thin, red-tinted brows came up. "Not too much, I hope."

He laughed without humor. "Your safe."

She struggled with his proclamation. He didn't know her very well, but well enough to understand that she was almost affronted by the suggestion that she wouldn't be. She was so independent. "In truth, I was visiting with _Tante_ Alba." He supposed, if he wanted to break down his conversation, he'd conclude that he said that to remind her that she wasn't _untouchable_. No one was. There was a time when she'd needed help, and he'd provided it. Despite the way she'd returned the favour, he didn't regret it.

Predictably, Erza's eyes narrowed. She _did_ remember. Good. "I hope you catch your killer, Detective."

Jellal grabbed her hand before she could move past him. She went stiff as a stick. He tensed; his jaw still remembered her right hook. Pleasure and misery. She didn't hit him so he said, "You treat your customers better nowadays I hear."

Her mouth twitched; it wasn't a smile and it wasn't a grimace, caught somewhere between the two, it faded without ever becoming either. "I suppose that's not a very difficult thing."

That little bit of remorse made his mouth run wild. "Your roommate says she has a special rate for law enforcement." He didn't know what the fuck his problem was.

"Most of us do, Detective." She slipped from his grip before he could ask anything else stupid. "Good luck finding your Cardinal."

* * *

Her window overlooked the street. Erza went to it and checked. A man crossed the road but it wasn't Detective Fernandez. She was somehow both glad and disappointed.

"Looking for someone?"

Erza turned and faced a dressed-for-bed Mirajane. She'd washed the purple makeup from her face and the matching chalk from her hair and had traded her fishnets for bare skin. "Not really. I just ran into that detective downstairs."

"He was here again?"

Erza shook her head. "Found him on the street."

Mira crossed the room and flicked back the curtain. There wasn't anyone out there at all now, they'd all found somewhere else to be. It was getting late. "You should wait for me next time you want to go for a walk. It's not safe."

"Next time I will."

They both knew she wouldn't. Most days, she dared danger to wander her way. There was nothing like beating it into submission. It was like conquering her fear every time. She'd stopped wandering around looking for fights and luring men into confrontational situations long ago. Being an escort meant that she found her fair share of the not-so-chivalrous without having to look too hard. _Tante_ Rosemary didn't even scold her now, trusting that she had a reason for carrying out justice. No one had pressed charges yet and they likely never would, so long as she didn't attack them unprovoked. She'd built a no-nonsense reputation for herself. Instead of hindering business as she'd feared, it seemed that more than a few men _liked_ that kind of thing. Maybe they liked poking at a tiger, waiting to see just how much she'd take before she bit back, maybe they just liked that she didn't lie back, a canvas for them to spill on and nothing more. Whatever the case, it had become a source of pride.

"Are you going to come to bed?" Mira's hand slid down her spine, letting her know exactly what she meant. They were almost never together two nights in a row.

"Didn't have a good shift?"

"Unsatisfying," Mira admitted. "Mr. Baker came in tonight."

His favorite thing to do was tease the girls to the point of climax but never over the edge. It was what got him off. It'd be fine if he never tried at all, as most of their clientele did, but the fact that he'd wait until they were shivering and sobbing and praising his ministrations meant that it was always a dissatisfying experience.

Erza started undressing her there, thinking that they could both use a bit of distraction. Eventually, they'd end in the bed, but for now, Erza wanted the aid of the window. Mira was easy. All she needed was the potential for eyes on her skin to get to a place where climax was effortlessly achieved. Kneeling in front of her, fingers filling both entrances and tongue dancing languidly brought her to orgasm every time.


	4. Chapter 4

_Bruises were beautiful in their own way. Deep, uncommon colour. Storm clouds and sand. Roiling ocean blue. Angry. Sometimes, they were tainted red. Sometimes, that red was so deep, it was purple. She couldn't stop looking at it. She couldn't stop touching it. She couldn't stop thinking_ this is the last time. _Because she should love herself more than this._

This is the last time. This is the last time.

_She could only stop touching it when it was time to take up the gun. It was surprisingly heavy in her hands. She thought that every time she lifted it._ This is surprisingly heavy _. And it_ should _be, shouldn't it? It was capable of such finality. The constable had been very helpful in showing her how to use it. She couldn't mimic his bravery, though. All she could do was finger the trigger and hope that the bullet found home._

_All she could do was hope_ this is the last time _. Because if it wasn't, then she would be dead._

_She aimed._

This is the last time.

_And then she made it so._

_The gun exploded._

Erza came wide awake with the sound that was only in her dreams. Sitting up alerted Mira to her state; she couldn't do anything but pant and sweat and clench her fingers, over and over again, in the blankets of a bed that didn't belong to her but was as familiar as her own.

Sleepily, Mira asked. "What is it?"

Erza felt constricted with the girl's arm around her bare waist. She didn't pull away, afraid more of questions than of containment. "Just… a nightmare."

"Mm." Mira pulled her in closer. Erza allowed for it, knowing that half of the battle of calming herself was finding someplace familiar and comfortable. Mira cupped one of her breasts loosely and rested her head on Erza's shoulder as soon as she was able. In seconds, she was asleep again. Erza breathed out and found a place on the ceiling, determined to follow suit. Nightmares and memory should never have a common ground.

* * *

It wasn't until six thirty that Jellal stopped pretending to sleep and gave in to the effects of the caffeine pills, though he was going to need another to get him through the day. He popped it, then laced up and took Beau for the ten kilometer run he hoped would tire her out for the rest of the day.

By the time he was done, thirty-seven minutes had gone past and he felt somehow both exhausted and rejuvenated, as was the runner's prerogative. Beau was a mess. In the elevator, she dropped to the floor and absorbed the coolness that came up from the metal while she panted. Upstairs, Jellal brought her into the shower with him and gave her the cool rinse she both hated and enjoyed. Shepherds didn't like to be wet. She did like to be cool, though.

He texted Laxus on the way out and got back an impressively comprehensible reply. He'd be at the station in half an hour. Jellal checked the time. Eight fifteen. That was almost a record.

* * *

Pulling into the station, he liked to think that he knew something good was coming his way. A few days into the case, something had to happen, right? They couldn't keep running this stalemate. And he was right. As he came up the elevator to the cafeteria to grab his morning coffee, Laxus met him, two cups in his hand. He thrust one at Jellal and wrapped his arm around Jellal's shoulder, guiding him right back the way they came.

"We got someone upstairs waiting to talk to us."

"We do?" Jellal asked, both hopeful and feigning ignorance. He didn't want his partner to know just how well he knew _Tante_ Alba, though it wasn't a great secret. Even the best spies got caught, and in Jellal's case, his capture had eventually led to a career in law enforcement.

"Broad that says she was almost snatched the other night when she was heading back to the Prayer. She's in interrogation, come on."

He certainly had more pep to his step. "Sleep last night?" Jellal asked as the metal elevator doors closed out the cafeteria.

"Yeah, great," Laxus said dismissively and jammed the fourth floor button. They started their ascent. Jellal felt painfully aware of the bags beneath his eyes and his five o'clock shadow. There wasn't anything for it. Tonight would be better. After their interrogation, he'd head back home, catch a few winks because hopefully, by then, the caffeine pills would have worn off, and his internal clock would find some stability. Roving the streets wouldn't seem like such an impossible task when he was feeling refreshed.

The elevator _dinged_ and deposited them onto the white tiled floor. Up here, the station wasn't too busy. A few cops meandered back and forth, most looking as exhausted as Jellal felt, just as many with huge cups of coffee in their hand. The station was rank with the stuff this time of day, which was a big win. Jellal would take the stench of freshly-brewed coffee over the station's naturally kaleidoscoping aroma of perfume, cologne, cigarettes and alcohol any day.

Opening the door, he saw their witness immediately. She stuck out in the bland interrogation room like a firework in the night sky. The traditional _kanga_ she wore was every colour imaginable, hand-sewn and dyed, he'd bet, so bright that for a moment, all he could do was try to take in the patterns and the colours before he lifted his eyes and found her dark skinned face. She'd not rushed here by any means, she'd taken the time to line her midnight eyes with kohl, her lips with scarlet.

She caught him staring and smiled in the way _all_ women in her profession smiled. She was a panther with her prey in sight. Jellal was determined not to be pray.

"Miss…?"

"Balewa." Her accent was thick. "Zoya Balewa. You, Detective, may call me Zoya."

"Zoya," Laxus started, going to one of the two chairs across from her.

Her eyes sharpened. "Not you."

He stared at her. His gaze turned sour. It didn't take much to ruin Laxus' day. He kept it together. " _Miss_ Balewa. Why are you here."

She leaned back in her chair and drummed fingers, adorned with many golden rings, against the interrogation table while Jellal got seated. She did well for herself, wearing jewelry like that. "Two nights ago, a man in the street tried to make me leave with him."

The spark of curiosity demolished any residual sleepless-hangover Jellal had. He had his notepad out and was fighting with his pen. "Where were you?"

"I was on Elden Street around one in the morning, coming back to the Prayer after an evening out with some friends."

"So you weren't working when this happened?"

"It was my night off," she explained.

Which was consistent.

"Did you see the face of your attacker?"

She shook her head. "He grabbed me here, though." She turned her arm and showed Jellal a bruise. "He was not just looking to buy a whore."

No. Evidently. "Did you notice anything about him? Even the smallest detail, Zoya."

Her scarlet lips came out. "As I told _Tante,_ he carried a rosary. The beads were red. The cross was white. I remember it against my skin when he grabbed me."

"Priest?" Laxus mused aloud.

"This was no holy man." She mimicked _Tante_ Rosemary's words so perfectly, even in vehemence. She calmed. "He also had something on his wrist. A tattoo perhaps. I only saw the end of it when the cuff of his shirt came up."

Tattoos were good. Even better when they knew what the fuck they were of. "You don't know what it was?"

She shook her head.

Jellal didn't let himself get discouraged. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No."

Of course not. Could he be anymore of a ghost? "How did you get away, Zoya, if you don't mind me asking?" Jellal wondered.

" _Tante_ Alba doesn't like us to be helpless," Zoya said. "She teaches us how to defend ourselves. Your Cardinal is no holy man, nor is he a devil, he is just a man with a broken finger."

Jellal smiled. _Tante_ Alba was admirable. There were no lambs in her holy house. "What can you tell me about your clients? Any that are…"

"Peculiar?" Zoya supplied.

"That's a good term," Laxus said.

"We are all peculiar, Detective. We are all a little malicious, too. There is only one man that I can think of that may be both, however."

Jellal leaned in without meaning to. "Yeah?"

"Your discretion. _Tante_ Alba gave me permission to point you his way _only_ if you promise you'll not make a spectacle."

"You have our word," Jellal promised.

She studied Jellal carefully. " _Tante_ Alba says you can be trusted, Detective. She says if I look, I will see you have some demons in you. She never lies. That's very good for you. I never trust a man that hasn't hurt before."

Jellal smiled tightly, uncertain how he felt about _Tante_ Alba giving up even a little bit of his secrets. It worked in his favour, though.

"His name is Rahkeid. Dragneel."

"Rahkeid?"

"Yes, he—"

"We're familiar with him." Laxus' voice dripped with disgust.

Zoya drummed her fingers again. For whatever reason, she wasn't a Laxus Dreyar fan. "Well, Detectives, you now know everything I do. May I go?"

Jellal considered asking her to stay so he could try to pump even more information from her but didn't see the point. "Thank you for coming in, Zoya. Don't wait next time, please."

She didn't respond as she moved across the room. Jellal looked after her until the door closed again, blocking her from view.

"Rahkeid Dragneel," Laxus mused.

"Yeah."

"I'm not too partial to being shot at."

Jellal gave him a dry look. "No one's going to shoot at anyone."

"We're talking about the same guy, right?"

"He's not going to shoot at us," Jellal reaffirmed. "We're going in with questions, that's all. He might think about shooting at us, but he's not _stupid_."

"I'm going to hold my judgement on that," Laxus muttered.

"Come on. If Zoya's right, we won't even have to ask that many questions. See a broken finger, we make an arrest." It wouldn't be quite so easy, but it would give them reason enough to drag his ass in here, away from his drug-dealing, narcissistic and sly crime lord father.

Laxus stood and adjusted his jacket and smoothed his tie. "Guess if today's the day I die, at least I slept for twelve hours before, right?"

That was almost unheard of. "Sounds good to me."

In the hallway, they saw a frazzled looking Meredy. She smiled at them so briefly. Jellal considered grabbing her and taking her along for the ride, but venturing onto Dragneel territory was a dangerous enough roulette game without adding scatter-brained and inexperienced to the table. All he asked was, "How are those profiles coming?"

"I have a lot done," she said with a smile that was too wide and too sleep deprived. "I put the ones I think should be looked at more carefully on your desk. I'll have the rest to you hopefully by tomorrow."

"Don't kill yourself," Jellal said.

"He doesn't mean that," Laxus cut in. "If you have to, Meredy."

The look she gave him was one of a kind: confused at first, and then insulted.

"Kidding," Laxus said.

She didn't reply, on her way again.

"And I wondered why Zoya didn't like you."

"And I wondered why she liked you too much," Laxus replied. "What's _Tante_ Alba know about you, huh? Demons? What is that shit?"

"Just a crazy old lady talking crazy old lady shit." Jellal swung away from the elevator and headed for his desk.

"You expect me to believe that?"

There was sanctuary in silence. In a sea of cubicles, his stood out not at all. He knew his way to it well, though, it was his first home, his apartment coming in second. As Meredy promised, there was a stack of yellow casefiles on his keyboard. He thanked her silently for thoroughly narrowing the list, there were only three for him to read through.

"Fernandez."

Jellal turned and straightened, facing a dark haired and line-faced man. He was tall enough that Jellal was eye-to-eye with his no-bullshit gaze. "Superintendent Tores."

"How's that investigation coming?" His voice was clear and deep, from a chest that was barrel-like, protected by muscle garnered from hours and hours spent at the gym. Having a promotion handed to him never made him careless or indolent. He was as full of piss and vinegar in his fifty-fifth year as he had been when he was Jellal's age.

"It's coming, Sir." Which was not a complete lie, though he couldn't help but think it painted the truth in a generous light.

Tores leaned back against one of the cubicle walls, hands in his pockets. "Any suspects?"

"A few." Out of his periphery, Jellal watched Laxus set his ass on his desk and cross his arms over his chest, satisfied to let Jellal take the heat. Maybe that was payback for his lax attitude when Mira was offering him a deal. "We're just on our way to check out a lead." He wondered why he said anything at all and then prayed that Tores wouldn't ask _what_ lead.

He did. Predictably. "Where?"

"A girl was attacked on the streets a couple nights ago, told us to look toward Rahkeid Dragneel."

"Dragneel."

It was a statement. Jellal answered, "Yes," anyway because to slink away was a coward's way.

However, when he was expecting a tongue-lashing about just _waltzing_ in with accusations (it had happened before and it never did the MPD any good, other than make them look bad when they couldn't get a conviction) he said, "Do what you need to do to catch this guy."

"Sir."

He left, large shoulders sheathed in an expensive suit swaying as he moved between cubicles.

"'Do what you need to do to catch this guy'?" Laxus mimicked in disbelief. "I thought for sure he was going to tell us to back off until we had more than just a suggestion from this girl."

"Told you. Captain's been on my ass and his, I guess," Jellal said after a moment.

"Guess." Laxus fixed his suit. "Let's go then. We'll read the files on the way."

Jellal knew what that meant. He grabbed the Tahoe's keys from his desk and passed them Laxus' way.

* * *

The Dragneels, like the Mikazuchis, lived in what Jellal would describe as the rich part of town. Their 'home' was a four storey monster with three separate wings, a gate, and a driveway large enough that the house was invisible from the road.

Laxus stopped at the gate and pressed the designated button for entry.

"Yes?" came a voice that had grated on Jellal's nerves for years.

"Mr. Dragneel." Laxus didn't even have to introduce himself, he was recognized through the video feed being transmitted to the mansion.

"Detectives. Is this a social visit or work related?"

Laxus was short and to the point. "Work."

Jellal expected to be told to fuck off. The universe was feeling very generous today. The gates opened and the speaker told them to, "Come on up. We're out back."

Laxus barely waited for the gates to open before speeding through them and up the curving driveway. Trees peeled back to reveal the house, the classic cars out front, the ostentatious outdoor balustrade that blocked off a massive deck and its pool from the ground twenty feet below. All of it, every last bit, was bought with drug money. Could they fucking prove it? No one was talking. Maybe no one _wanted_ to talk. Annoyingly, Zeref Dragneel made huge donations to the police department every year. The one time Jellal asked if it was a conflict of interest, he was stuck on traffic duty for a month. Some battles you fought. Others, you sat back and waited because eventually, someone was going to get exhausted. You just hoped that it wasn't you.

"Look at this fucking place," Laxus swore. His eyes were on a busty housemaid that came out around the building and approached the truck.

"Yeah. The house is something else," Jellal said wryly.

Laxus stopped the truck and threw it into park. He was the first out to greed the maid. Jellal took more time, putting his casefiles beneath the seat and locking the door. Education was power; Zeref Dragneel knew that better than anyone else. And he was a sly bastard. Jellal didn't think it was above him to have the vehicle tossed while they talked.

Maybe being a detective had made him suspicious. It was in his experience that suspicious people got duped far less.

"This way, Detectives," the maid was saying. She led them back over the manicured lawn. Though it was still early spring, all of the leaves had been picked up and the gardens were ready for growing. In a few, tulips were sprouting, their leaves greening and stretching toward the sky.

The last time Jellal had been on the Dragneel property was four years ago when he was following a lead regarding a homicide. The body had been found in a vehicle that Zeref claimed had been stolen. That was fine. What wasn't fine was that the body had been a day and a half old when Zeref bothered to make the report, connecting the dots for them between the vandalized and VIN-less 1972 Chevy Corvette and its owner. It was suspicious. Zeref's defense was: 'When you have as many cars as I do, Detective, you don't have time to notice every single one'.

The case went nowhere; it happened more often than he liked.

As he walked, Jellal took in everything he could, searching for roses, searching for blood—they still didn't have a location for the killings—anything awry that would say 'guilty!' These girls didn't die on the street, they were taken somewhere where they were used and then killed. Positioned. Manipulated by wire stuck through their skin so their hands would stay clasped, their necks bent, their eyes open and their mouths closed as they stared up at _nothing,_ naked as the day they came into this world.

Quietly, Jellal said, "We should start cruising churches." He'd been trying to put it off.

Laxus grunted. There were a surprising number of churches in Magnolia. Thankfully, not too many of those were Catholic in nature. _Not that that means anything_. Could be, someone was trying to make a statement about the Catholic faith.

_Could be a lot of fucking things._

Jellal stayed away from religion as a rule. There was a lot of symbolism and stoic beliefs and hard-headed men and women to defend them to the death. _And that's what Meredy's for_. Laxus didn't appreciate her. That was fine. Jellal did and he would use her as a shield to get through all of the spiritual crap to the man that was very, very poorly misinterpreting it.

Before he resorted to that measure, though, he was going to move through the suspects in his casefiles.

The walkway gave way to the three Dragneel's. Natsu, Zeref's younger brother, Zeref, and Zeref's son, Rahkeid. Jellal looked at Rahkeid's new facial tattoo and couldn't help but think that Zoya was on to something. Then he looked down to Rahkeid's hand and had all the answers he needed.

* * *

Erza dabbed her face in the light of the small bathroom, covering up the roughed skin left behind by Dan's shove, first with cream to help it heal the rest of the way, and then with concealer. When she was finished, she couldn't tell that there was anything there at all. She never used to be so good with makeup. Then, when she'd left her old life behind, she decided that along with her new streak of independence, she needed a new skillset. Most would scoff at the ones she'd chosen, she knew. There was something to be said about the power sex gave a person, though, as ugly as that little truth was. Mira understood. Most of the girls that worked at the Barrel did.

That's why, when Erza announced that she'd be going back to work tonight, accepting a job offer from one of Magnolia's oldest and most traditional families, Mira helped her pick out a dress to stun the Lady Heartfilia.

Black was foolproof. As she pulled the dress down over her head, adjusting the keyhole neckline, she appreciated how stark it made her look. Red and ivory and black. She left her hair down, curling it, and brushed her eyes with burgundy shadow. Her lips were treated with a very similar colour. Mira breezed by in an outfit that was mostly leather and told her how beautiful she was. Erza believed her.

"Where are you and Miss Heartfilia going?" Mira asked. Her voice was muffled because her head was in the closet as she dug for a pair of boots.

"To dinner at this obnoxiously expensive restaurant she likes, and then, likely, she'll pull me into the alley like she always does."

Erza could just imagine Mira shaking her head. "Why doesn't she come to the Barrel? She could get a room here and—"

"She's afraid of her father finding out," Erza said, though Mira knew all of that already.

"What's he going to do? Be ashamed of his daughter liking the flower instead of the pole? Then what? He cuts her off her money and she lives happily ever after with someone she _actually_ wants to be with?"

"I'm not sure if girls are it for Lucy," Erza mused, dusting her cheeks with blush that was much darker than she'd usually wear. "I just think that she likes it. It's not what her father wants, so it's what she wants."

"And what do you want?" Mira asked.

"To get paid, to have fun," Erza said airily in an attempt to stray from the heavy subject.

Mira leaned against the doorframe. She was having none of the bullshit. "Do you think you'll do this forever?"

Erza chewed on her lip despite the lipstick. "Eventually, I'll no longer be beautiful."

Mira gave her a look that Erza didn't misinterpret: she _always_ thought Erza would be beautiful. But not young. " _Tante_ Rosemary won't pay for an escort past her prime."

Even Mira knew better than to argue with that. No one said being an escort was an easy career choice. "Do you have any plans?"

"I have a nursing degree," Erza said. But no experience.

"I never knew that."

Erza shrugged. "This pays better." She knew Mira knew all about that. She saw her roommate squirreling away every spare penny, stuffing it into a _Spiderman_ piggy bank she kept in her closet. There had been a lot of times Erza ventured to ask her what she was going to do with all that money—there was a lot in there by now—it seemed personal, though, and while she and Mira shared plenty, beds, partners from time to time when they requested it, clothes and makeup and shoes, Mira's secrets were Mira's, and Erza's was Erza's. That was the way she liked it. Most days. Some days, however, like today, her mouth almost moved around the question, almost asked, _what are your dreams?_ Or _where is your family?_ Mira sent texts every once in a while, but she never left for Christmas or for her birthday, preferring to celebrate both at _Be Frank_. The bar wasn't anything special, not unless you counted the countless heavy-headed cops that moved through, balming their weary souls with whisky, but Mira seemed to like it.

Erza pushed away the personal questions to ask, "What have you got planned tonight?"

"I'm entertaining Mr. Rakheid and then… dunno. Maybe wait for that detective to call."

Erza smiled and shook her head. "Do you think he will?"

Mira's responding grin could only be described as wicked. "We make our own fate."

* * *

What did debutants talk about? Erza would have said a harebrained 'nothing' but Lucy unloaded a lifetime of philosophical _bullshit_ in her lap. Every time they were together, she took it as an opportunity to talk politics (Erza voted, that was about _it_ ) religion and the general state of the sorry world. She talked like she'd never talked before, and kept going past the point of reason. Erza let her continue. Being an escort had taught her all kinds of things. To have a sympathetic and patient ear was just one of the few skills she'd picked up along the way.

Mira was better at it.

Erza did her best.

With Lucy, the work was relatively easy. Like Erza told Mira, Lucy wanted someone to have dinner with, someone who would let her unload all of her many opinions about _everything_ (Erza didn't think she had much of an opportunity to do it at home) and then she'd want to venture into the alley between the restaurants and kiss.

As far as clients went, Lucy was one of the most undemanding. Any time Erza tried to take it further, she'd titter and shake and puff. Then she'd force Erza to take her money and be on her way. Tonight was shaping up to be the exact same, except when Erza had her outside in their usual haunt, nestled between a dumpster and a pile of pallets, Lucy let her touch her breasts. Erza was so surprised that she did nothing except keep her hands there just to see if it had been a mistake.

It hadn't been. She didn't think Lucy was the type of woman to let herself be had in an alley. Then again, she wouldn't have thought she was the type to do _any_ of this. Perhaps that's what Lucy's problem was. No one thought to look beyond what she was presented to be: a blonde, busty rich girl that would be married off to someone equally as blonde and rich as she. So, Erza gave the debutant the taste of freedom she craved, even if it was misguided. Lucy wouldn't be the first and she wouldn't be the last.

Erza kissed her chin and her neck and even her mouth as she did with Mira, thinking that one of her golden three rules was based in biasness, applying to men but not to women. To be fair, though, when she kissed women, she found they didn't expect the same from her as men. Afterward, they weren't as righteous or as demanding. They were, as a rule, level-headed, and the ones that weren't, she trusted _Tante_ Rosemary to send away. To date, none of her female clients had ever asked her to run off into the sunset with them. They were a practical breed. Most of the ones that saw her were older, fed up with their husbands or had been living a life of repression, much like Lucy.

Lucy, who was, at the moment, getting her sea-legs and daring to touch Erza back. She was clumsy. She'd never done this before. Maybe not even to a man. _That_ wasn't so uncommon, either. There was a lot of pressure on first-time sex. Erza had ushered a lot of virgins through her room and even felt good about the confidence she'd gifted to them in return. She treated Lucy much the same, directing her hands, "Higher, squeeze harder." Lucy's neck tasted like perfume. She vibrated in Erza's hands. Erza imagined that it had taken a lot of courage to get this far. She'd been visiting with Lucy like this for months.

Erza only knew that the mouth of the alley was filled because their interloper accidently crushed an empty bag of chips that had been pushed there by the wind. Lucy stiffened. Erza's heart turned despite herself, her mind taking her to too many places at once: the past, a nightscape cultivated in dream, a fantasy land created by fear. She hadn't been afraid of the streets for a long, long time and she wasn't happy to feel that way now. That panging in her chest was undeniable, however.

By the time she'd taken her mouth from Lucy's throat and looked down toward the mouth of the alley to scare off their spy, he—she was sure it had been a man, his shoulders had been wide and he'd been tall—turned from the alley and disappeared.

As did the mood.

Lucy was taking her hands away from the folds of Erza's dress, she was smoothing her own clothes, she was fixing her hair and her lipstick and tugging the hem of her pink party dress down around her thighs. "You don't think they recognized me, do you?"

"It's dark, Lucy. Not likely."

The girl shivered; Erza thought it was part fear and part cold spring air. "Aren't you ever scared, Erza?"

Erza bluffed; it was the best way she knew to flatten that feeling in her chest. "What would I be scared of?"

Lucy looked at her matter-of-factly and said in a hushed voice, "What about the Cardinal?"

"You're not prescribing to that crap, are you?" Erza asked.

"Crap? What do you mean? He's been taking girls, Erza, like you. It's all over the news." Her gloved hands came together. "I shouldn't have invited you out here. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You don't have any reason to be scared for me," Erza said. "I can take care of myself." If Mira and Lucy kept saying stuff like that, though, it was going to give her a complex.

"I'll get my driver to drop you off at home."

"And what is your father going to say when your driver tells him that you dropped a female escort off at the Barrel's apartments, Lucy?" Erza didn't want to ask but she didn't want Lucy's imagination to run wild, bringing her own along with it.

Lucy hesitated, then, bless her golden heart, said, "I don't care."

"Well I do. I'd be sad if we never saw each other again."

Lucy flushed. Whether she was pleased or embarrassed, Erza didn't know. "I should get going."

"Sure," Erza said and pulled away from her. She opened the back door she'd prevented from locking by sticking a pen in the jam and ushered Lucy inside. A few servers looked at them strangely as they shuffled through the mostly empty staff room and took a right, bringing them into the dining room again, but no one said anything, they never did.

The restaurant was still busy. From there, Erza guided Lucy to the front door and saw her out into her waiting black Cadillac. She watched the taillights amalgamate with countless others that filled the streets before she buttoned her trench coat and faced the direction of home. She didn't get very far. In a sea of bodies, she recognized a familiar face and promptly fixed her gaze on the ground.

It was too late; he'd already seen her. Or maybe he'd been watching her for some time.

"Erza."

Not seeing any other way, she lifted her gaze and met Dan's eyes. "What do you want, Dan?"

He wrung his soft rich-man's hands together and looked at her dolefully from his battered face. His skin was a most impressive shade of blue. Erza's dream tried to come back to her; she bludgeoned it and listened to Dan saying, "I… I wanted to say sorry. I don't know what came over me the other night."

"I do," Erza said shortly. "You're infatuated, Daniel. You need to leave me alone or next time, it won't matter how much money you have or how much of a fight I think it'll be, I will press charges."

"Erza—" He reached for her, touching her bicep.

Erza felt her body go cold. "The last man that laid hands on me unwelcomely never laid hands on anyone else ever again."

He must have believed her because he took his hand away, looking dumbstruck and off-balance. Erza took the opportunity to leave.

No one else tried to stop her but when she was in her apartment building again, climbing the stairs, she looked through the glass surrounding the door blocking the second level and saw a box left out front of her apartment. There wasn't anything about it in particular that made her think it was malevolent and yet, she knew without a doubt that she wasn't going to like whatever was inside. As she came into the hallway, instinct was telling her to just kick it aside and never think about it again.

Curiosity didn't kill cats for nothing.

* * *

_Be Frank_ was busy tonight. Regulars and passers through filled the booths, the bar, the space by the pool tables. The chatter was just loud enough to make Laxus feel like he didn't have to listen to any of it. That's the way he wanted it. He couldn't drown out the voice in his head, though, and he needed to bitch. "I can't fucking believe our luck," he griped when he wasn't staring into his dwindling cup of beer.

Jellal mimicked his statement.

"The only tattoo he's got is on his forehead—who the hell has a facial tattoo?" he didn't look at his tattooed partner. "His fingers ain't broke. And he was roasting his skinny, pale ass on a tropical beach for the last month."

"Yeah."

Laxus knew Jellal was barely entertaining him. He'd been complaining on and off for the better part of the day.

"We still have those leads Meredy gave us. She's got more coming," Jellal said over the sounds of AC/DC's _Thunderstruck._

"Yeah." He slid his empty cup across the bar for another refill. He could _feel_ Jellal's disapproving glare and thusly, was prepared for the,

"Don't overdo it, we got work to do tomorrow."

"Two beers aren't going to kill me."

"It's the ones after I'm worried about."

He didn't have any intention of getting wasted and said as much.

Jellal drank back the rest of his own beer. "I'm going to call it a night."

"Hey," Laxus said, bringing his partner up short before he could get lost in the throng. "We should check out those leads Meredy gave us, but I think if they don't pan out, you should call the Spider."

Jellal's expression got tight like Laxus knew it would. "I don't want to owe anything to her."

"No, me either, but you know as well as I do, nothing happens on the streets without her knowing about it."

Before turning his back and leaving, Jellal said, "Something else will pan out."

Optimism wasn't a universal salve. It didn't solve crimes. Dredging through the scum solved crimes. Calling in favours you didn't want to call in. Getting your hands dirty before the trail fizzled up and their killer moved on to bigger and better towns.

He'd let Jellal wander to that same conclusion. He had a feeling that it wasn't very long in coming.

The space beside him filled with a snow-capped figure that smelled of some fruity perfume. "Detective Dreyar."

Laxus wasn't sure if he should be smiling or not when he recognized her. "Mirajane."


	5. Chapter 5

A slow and cold spring rain misted Jellal's windshield, blurring the road until his wipers wicked it away. He took his time driving to the melody of _R U Mine_ by the Artic Monkeys, not too slow, not too fast, eyes roaming the streets like he'd always done, cataloging every little thing. He watched a hooker unaffiliated with any Matriarch sell herself to a man that didn't look like he could buy his next meal let alone any quality girl. He watched two kids pass back and forth a flask that he was sure had been stolen and filled with their parents' liquor. He watched a skinny teen eye up an old Silverado, looking not to take the truck but pilfer its contents.

He considered stopping. He reminded himself, _you gotta pick your battles_. If he stopped every time there was a crime in progress, he'd never find a moment to sleep. That was hard enough to come by.

He found other things to think of. _Contact the Spider_. That wasn't her true name, that was just a nickname Laxus had given to her that she said she didn't like but Jellal thought she secretly loved. She was just that kind of girl. And he didn't want to owe a damn thing to her. Owing to her was like putting your dick in a vice. It'd be alright for a while but eventually, she'd tighten it and there would be no getting free. But so far they had just about nothing and what they did have was getting shot down faster than targets at a shooting gallery. He glanced at the casefiles Meredy had left for him. He'd skimmed them and didn't much like what he saw. It wasn't very often one of their own came through the lineup and he didn't savour the questions he was going to have to start asking tomorrow.

Slowing, he edged his Charger up into his apartment's parking lot and made for his space only to find that it was occupied. And not by a car or by a motorbike. A woman stood there, wrapped up in a black trench coat. The lights illuminated her middle and her legs, making her tall leather boots shine, the red of her tights ignite. Really, though, it was her hair that was the true blaze. Scarlet caressing the bottom of her ribs, twisting in the breeze. There wasn't another colour in the world like it.

Jellal kept his eyes on her, and the box she had clasped between her hands, as he inched his car in as far as he could without crushing her. She was just staring at him, challengingly, forlornly. How could one be both? But Erza Scarlet was a lot of things. He cut the engine and took his time gathering his coat, his casefiles, the garbage from his on-the-road dinner. Finally, when his hands were so full he had to get his keys out _before_ going to the apartment, he clambered from his car. Her perfume was on the air, something like jasmine. She'd changed it since the first time he'd met her.

"Miss Scarlet."

The sky overhead was overcast, meaning that the only light that dared to touch her came from the building and the lamp in the middle of the parking lot. Without the aid of his headlights, it was more difficult to pick out her particulars, the many freckles that brushed her cheeks and her nose, the hairpin curve to her upper lip. Jellal remembered. _Why_ he remembered, he didn't fucking know, but he remembered. "I assume you're waiting for me?"

Erza shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "Yes."

Yes. Of course. His palms itched. He stuck to the facts. "How did you find where I lived?"

"I have a friend in the police department," Erza dodged.

"A friend that's been giving out my address?" Not cool.

"He only told me which building."

"Then how did you know the parking space?"

Her mouth twitched. "You don't seem like a ground floor kind of guy and this was the only high number space with a car that was missing."

"Who's the detective here?"

She got serious. "Can we talk?"

He waved her on with the hand that clutched his keys.

"In private?"

Jellal wished he'd hesitated more. Or opened up his car and urged her to get in. Or done _anything_ else other than finger through the keyring and find his front door key. In the brief time he'd known her years ago he'd done innumerable stupid things so why should tonight be any different? "Come on."

* * *

_Thunderstruck_ faded and ZZ Top's _Sharp Dressed Man_ took over. Mira watched Laxus tap his fingers on his new beer. She imagined he was trying to think of something witty to say. His faltering made her smile. It wasn't a very nice smile; it couldn't be helped. He looked good enough to eat and she was feeling hungry.

"I am just so thirsty."

Laxus cleared his throat. "You want a drink?"

So he could talk comprehensively.

Good.

"That'd be really nice." She pulled out the stool beside him and wormed her way up. Once there, she hooked her high heels in the bar's foothold and silently relished the relief. Her shoes looked good. She knew that. They felt like hell when she walked through the streets with them, something she didn't do too often at the risk of attracting unwanted attention. Maybe Erza was alright with wandering around busting heads but Mira tried to avoid it when she could. It was bad for business. And people were unpredictable. Sometimes, they just snapped and people suffered.

She shied away from the dark memories; they had no place at her side tonight.

"What are you drinking?" Laxus asked.

"Sour apple martini," Mira said at random. She watched Laxus flag down the bartender. In moments, she had her drink before her. She sipped it. It was as sour as she liked, with just a hint of sweet. She smacked her lips, tasting lipstick, too. When the glass was back on the napkin and Laxus _still_ hadn't bothered making any sort of conversation with her, she decided he needed some prompting. "So. How is your case going, Detective?"

"Not really supposed to talk about it," he dodged. "Bureaucracy crap."

"Of course. You'll catch him."

"We will," Laxus agreed. He took a huge gulp of his beer. He was a little nervous; Mira could see it in the way he kept yanking on his tie, loosening it centimeter by centimeter. He plagued her with an age-old question. "Do you come here often?"

"Sometimes," Mira said with a smile that bordered a laugh.

He glanced at her sideways, surprised by her answer. "I've never seen you here."

Mira stood and placed her back against the bar so he was either forced to look at her or spend his time awkwardly trying to find somewhere else for his eyes. He looked. "But I've seen you."

"You have?"

"Of course. You're always up here with that partner of yours, watching the game, drinking beer."

"I wouldn't say _always_."

"Once a week."

"So you are here often?"

"Once a week. Thursday is my night off. Which just so happens to be the night you're here."

"Today's Friday," he told her.

She winked. "Which means I'm working." Mira found the cuff of his suit jacket and plucked it. "Have you thought about my offer?"

His throat bobbed. "Mirajane…"

"Mmhmm?"

"My case—"

"Doesn't have anything to do with me."

"…No. But I'm working—"

"Currently you're at a bar. Everyone needs a bit of rest, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

She spider-walked her fingers up his arm to his neck. He shivered beneath her touch. "It'll help you think better." He took another deep swallow of his beer. Mira leaned in and put her mouth beside his ear. He smelled like coffee and faintly of soap. Bergamot. A little bit citrusy. "I know all the tricks."

"My captain isn't going to be happy if she knows."

"Then don't let her know."

"Mirajane—"

"Will you drive me back to my apartment, Detective? It's late."

She knew she had him in that moment. He went riffling through his pocket for some bills and threw them down on the counter without counting. When he stood, she fell into step behind him, following him over the sticky wooden floor, past a table or two filled with cops that were involved enough in whatever they were doing not to lift their heads. Except one. Mira winked at him and he smiled back. Then his eyes moved to Laxus and that smile wavered slightly. Mira lifted her finger to her lips, silencing the narcotics detective. He found somewhere else to look before Laxus noticed that they had an audience and decided that she could get home on her own.

Outside, it had started to mist. The whole world smelled like spring. Mira breathed it in, enjoying it. This was her favorite time of year. The snow was gone, the ground was wet, flowers were starting to poke through the soil and leaves were burgeoning at the tips of twigs. It was no longer cold, nor was it hot. It was perfect. Unless, of course, you were wearing high heels. Then you ran the risk of getting your feet soaked. She avoided puddles. Nothing was as unsexy as wet feet.

As soon as Laxus pointed them in the direction of his car, she picked it out of the crowd, that bright yellow '69 Plymouth Roadrunner. She wasn't disappointed when he led her to it. It was ostentatious, just like he tried to be in his put-together suit and black tie, his scowl and messy hair his outlet of rebellion.

"Nice car."

That got a smile out of him. "Thanks." He unlocked the driver's door. Mira sashayed by him and climbed inside, pushing up the center armrest so she could make it to the passenger seat. She could _feel_ Laxus' protest coming and was careful not to get mud on the seats. After she was seated, she looked back. He had his forearm resting on the hood of the car while he leaned in. She expected to see his scowl. His face was caught between expressions. Mad, amused and interested.

"Are you coming?"

He dropped himself in heavily and slammed the squeaking door. The engine roared to life and the radio came on. It was on a classic rock station, The Eagle's _Witchy Woman_ filling the cabin. Mira felt her smile get bigger. It was a favourite, a song that made her feel powerful in some capacity. She removed her black wrap sweater, revealing the dress beneath. Laxus' eyes came over to her like she thought they would and lingered on the deep V her dress made. He was back to looking ahead a second later. Some coaxing was going to be required. She liked that.

The car moved into reverse. Mira waited until they were out on the road before sliding over so they were hip-to-hip and the stick shift was between her legs. Laxus was back to glancing at her.

"You make driving difficult."

"Nothing fun should be easy," Mira said.

"You should be wearing a seatbelt."

"So should you."

Laxus glanced down and realized she was right. Mira reached around him before he could fumble with the buckle and did it for him, letting her hands linger too long across his chest, at his hip. He didn't protest so she slid her hand over his thigh to between his legs. There, she tickled up to the point where his pants lifted to accommodate but not beyond. His breath came in a weak _whoosh_.

"What is it?"

"I think this is distracted driving."

"You can multitask, can't you?"

"Multitask?"

"You focus on the road and feeling good; I'll focus on you?"

She watched his jaw twitch. "I thought I was driving you home."

"I thought you were driving me to the Barrel."

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. She adjusted her grip between his legs, tickling and teasing, brushing over his growing erection, grabbing his leg and squeezing hard enough that it must have hurt. His throat bobbed again.

Mira got to her knees and grabbed the zipper at the front of her dress. "If discretion is what you wanted, Detective, we could take this car someplace quiet." He did a very admirable job at keeping his eyes on the road, even when she undid her dress all the way to the bottom and showed off the black lace shift beneath. "Or… if like me you enjoy a little risk, we could just pull over right here." She got his attention when she grabbed her breasts and pushed them together. His eyes were on her for too long. Mira fixed the steering wheel before they ran into oncoming traffic. That seemed to be sobering for Laxus. He went back to looking at the road. Mira went back to touching herself and even leaned in to nibble his ear.

"I'm going to kill us." Laxus' voice was roughed.

"Then drive better," Mira whispered.

"You're distracting."

"Then pull over and fuck me."

His fingers flexed around the leather steering wheel again. "I was only driving you home."

"Really? Then what did you plan on doing with this?" She finally touched him, grabbing not-so-gently.

His already short breath choked up. Mira rubbed. The car weaved slightly. "Speed up," Mira directed. "Or people are going to start getting mad."

"I'm definitely going to kill us."

She removed her dress completely and dropped it to the seat, then squirmed out of the shoulders of her immodest shift, exposing her breasts. Laxus pressed his foot down on the accelerator; Mira thought it was just so he had something to do. The car jerked back up to speed. It faltered again as Mira took one of his hands from the steering wheel and placed it on her lace-clad behind. He squeezed. She grabbed his belt.

"This is so illegal."

"You've broken the law before," Mira teased.

"I enforce it."

"Doesn't change the fact that you've broken it."

"Maybe when I was a kid," Laxus objected. "Not since."

Mira didn't bother arguing with him. She got his belt open. His pants came after. Like she thought, despite his protests, he leaned back slightly to help her out. She still ended up bending him to get him free. He didn't complain. He did, however, slide his hand over her back. Mira bent before he could guide her down. It was a good thing he was tall, there was enough room between his body and the steering wheel for her.

"Don't kill us," she warned.

"That's asking a lot." If it were possible, his voice was even rougher than before.

Mira smiled before taking him into her mouth. She felt the car sway. It evened out again. Laxus huffed overhead and swore. The car sped. They were going too fast now. She thought he'd figure it out. Probably. His free hand moved up her back into her hair. He didn't force her down like other men took to doing on occasion. He did tighten his fingers in her locks, though, and swear again. The car swayed.

"Definitely going to kill us," Laxus murmured.

"Then pull over," Mira took her mouth away to suggest.

Again, his breath came out in a _whoosh._ The car jerked to the right. The tires hit gravel and then they skidded to an abrupt halt. Someone behind them blared their horn. Mira sat up and let Laxus work the gearshift into park while she sorted through her purse for a condom. "Usually I'd treat you a little nicer but…"

He grabbed the condom from her hand and did all the work for her. Mira smiled and unclipped his seatbelt. Laxus put the chair back. The car was still running. Now Jimi Hendrix's _Purple Haze_ played on the radio. Mira tugged her shift up over her behind and straddled his legs. Lights from passing cars washed over her. Excitement made her head spin. She'd always like cops and cars and music and being watched. She wondered if anyone was fooled as they drove by. Not likely, though they probably couldn't see much, her silhouette, maybe her breasts. That was enough.

She kept her eyes open when normally she'd close them, wanting to bask in the atmosphere. It wasn't very often she was handed such an enrapturing opportunity. Her partner was also open-eyed and touching her until she lowered her body onto his, then his eyes slipped closed and his head tilted back. She wondered what he saw when he closed his eyes. Or _who_ , if anyone. She'd had a lot of cops just like him, too busy and focused on their jobs or too afraid to be with the people they cared about.

She let him have his fantasy while she played out her own, listening to the familiar sound of skin-on-skin, the sounds of her partner's enjoyment, the feel of his hands learning something new. She clutched his suit jacket and didn't wish that it was gone. She liked the authority of it, the feel of the fine material that stood for order being put through something carnal and very unorderly. His gun was jamming into her leg which meant that it was jamming into his hip, too. she didn't adjust, liking that as well.

Though _Tante_ Rosemary was in her mind, telling her that it was ' _all about the customer,'_ Mira made it a little bit about herself, too, finding that place between her legs and pushing herself into orgasm in the light of a semi. The truck roared by, drowning out her cries and setting the Plymouth to rocking. Laxus' hands tightened on her hips and he, too, came.

In the seconds that followed, Mira was able to hear the music again. She'd hit the dial at some point and had accidently changed it to pop. Maroon 5's _Moves like Jagger_ blaring in Laxus' classic Plymouth made her laugh.

Laxus took his hands from her body and Mira took that as an invitation to get up. He lifted his seat as soon as he was able and rummaged for takeout napkins. "How much?"

Mira rhymed off a sum.

Laxus lifted his gaze and looked at her skeptically. "For an impromptu car fuck?"

"Do you feel cheated?"

"Just not much of a discount, is it?" he asked as he zipped up his pants.

"You know what that means?" she asked. "You should come see me again and I'll make sure you get the VIP treatment."

"You're trouble." He tugged out his wallet, though, and counted out the appropriate amount.

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't see that." She took the money and stuffed it in her clutch then fixed her shift and shrugged into her dress again. When she was seated in the passenger's seat once more, she did up her seatbelt and asked, "Are you going to take me home, Detective?"

He put the car in drive.

* * *

It was strange having her in his apartment building. Even stranger still to cram into an elevator with her. It was supposed to be large enough to accommodate ten people but the place had never felt smaller to Jellal. He kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Rain had collected on the strands of her hair, dew on spider's silk. She shivered slightly in her trench coat. How long had she been waiting for him? Her cheeks were pink, whipped by the cold. Her hands, too, were chapped. She sniffed.

On the twenty-fourth floor, the elevator opened its maw and spat them out. Jellal guided them to his apartment, mind racing through a hundred different scenarios. Maybe she wanted to talk about that night. Or maybe she wanted to relive it. Or maybe she wanted to apologize. He'd accept it with an emotion that toed the line between rage and relief. He didn't like to be used.

Beau barked behind the barrier, startling Erza. "She's not mean," Jellal felt obligated to tell her before he got the door open. The dog came rushing out into the hallway, tail wagging. She jumped up like she _wasn't_ supposed to and planted her huge paws on Erza's shoulders. Erza stepped back to get her balance and rubbed Beau's shedding fur, half of a smile on her face. Jellal grabbed Beau by the collar and bullied her inside, rhyming out scoldings that bothered his dog not at all.

Erza came in and closed the door. "That's alright," she told him. "I like dogs."

And they liked her, apparently, because as soon as Jellal dared to let her go, she went for Erza again, only now she was interested in the box, whiffing loudly.

"Good. I don't think I could hold her back," Jellal said in an attempt to be funny. He wasn't sure if it worked or not but Erza smiled. "Do you want a tea or anything?"

"Tea's good," Erza said. She put the box between her feet and worked on getting out of her coat. Beneath she wore a long-sleeved black T-shirt that Jellal supposed was modest for an escort but somehow still made him want to look at her. To avoid it, he kicked off his shoes and brought himself into the kitchen, calling out, "Take a seat, I'll make it."

The kitchen was as he left it that morning, the coffee pot half full, bread crumbs on the counter from the stale bread he'd made into toast. There was a note on the fridge from Wendy. She'd been there last at quarter to ten. She was a godsend. He didn't know what he or Beau would do without her.

He put on the kettle and washed a couple dishes while he waited for it to boil, pretending that he was more domestic than he actually was. Who the fuck had time? His shirt was still on the counter from last night. He stuck his tie beneath the running water and washed a ketchup stain from it. It was still good. He'd wear it again tomorrow. The kettle clicked off. Jellal wrenched the taps off and got Erza a mug. It ended up being a _Star Trek_ one that said _'Risk is our business'_ on one side while Captain Kirk looked out of the other because somehow he didn't have anything else.

By the time he was ready and came back out into the living room again, Erza had made herself comfortable on his couch, the blue throw Porlyusica had given to him for a housewarming gift shrugged over her shoulders. It didn't take her long to get comfortable. Beau, the traitor, had her head in Erza's lap and was soaking up the attention as Erza petted her head absently.

Jellal came around the side of the couch and handed her the mug. He sat on the coffee table beside the box because he needed to maintain some formality.

"Nice mug." Erza sipped her tea.

Jellal couldn't tell if she was being facetious or not. "What are you doing here?"

"When I got home tonight, I found that right outside my apartment." She nodded to the box.

Jellal asked, "What's in it?"

Her fingers tightened on the mug. "Go ahead and look."

_Alright._ He pulled up the cardboard's folded edges and looked into the darkened interior. "Is this a joke?" he asked finally.

"I'm not laughing."

No, she was not. He released the box. "Two things. This is evidence, Erza." Shock had made him forget his formalities. "Now we've both contaminated it."

Her face blanked. "I didn't think…"

"And why the fuck are you just wandering around after someone leaves you a crown of thorns, huh?"

She wasn't so subtle about her feelings on this. "If someone wanted to put it on me, I welcome them to try."

"This isn't a joke."

Again, she said, "I'm not laughing."

He shook his head. "What were you thinking? You call the cops when this happens." It seemed all he could do was scold her.

"I came to the cops," she defended herself. Beau lifted her head from Erza's lap and readjusted at the end of the couch, obviously displeased by the change in demeanor.

"Not before you tried _again_ to take justice into your own hands."

"If it gets the job done."

"I couldn't lie for you this time."

"You didn't have to lie for me _last_ time."

Jellal dropped his voice into a sharp hiss. "You had my gun. What was I supposed to do, huh?"

"Tell the truth. I stole it." While he'd been staring up at the ceiling too fucked up to even think about the girl riffling through his pants at the bottom of the bed. That was until he heard it go off.

"You'd be in jail right now if I told them just what happened. Taking an officer's gun is a second-degree felony, Erza. And guess what? That's up to fifteen years in jail." All of which she'd probably see, considering.

"I'd be in there with a clear conscience."

She didn't get it then and she didn't get it now. It seemed he didn't either because he'd lied and he'd never looked back except when he was staring down a bottle of tequila, wondering if that was what gave birth to bad decisions or if it was a girl with too many bruises when the cover-up was washed off.

He looked at her in disgust. She looked back, never wavering.

Jellal stood and got his phone from his pocket. "Drink your tea."

"What are you doing?"

"Calling in our techs," he said, "and then I'm going to take your statement and try to think of a way to explain to my captain why you were in my apartment because she's going to ask."

Erza crossed an arm over her chest and gripped her bicep while she sipped her tea. Jellal made his calls.


	6. Chapter 6

The strobing lights could be seen from the top of the hill three kilometers away. Mira asked, "Is that coming from the Barrel?" even though she knew the answer was yes.

"Looks like." Laxus flicked off the radio and started searching his pockets for his phone. He cursed beneath his breath when it didn't immediately show itself. He looked between the seat and the door next, swerving. Somehow, he drove better while he was being sucked off. Go figure. His fingers brushed the top of a familiar rectangle. It was too early for celebration; this car fucking ate things. Between the seat was what he'd come to think of as _The Black Hole_. Cue horrible 1950's horror music.

He scissored his fingers around it and inched it up, most of his success attributed to the door panel. Beside him, Mira already had her phone out, trapped up in a nice dark purple case. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard.

"Erza says someone left a box outside of our apartment," she reported before Laxus ever got his phone out to see if Jellal had called him. "There was a crown of thorns in it."

His phone finally came free. Laxus lifted it and saw he had eight missed calls and thirteen texts from Jellal. Perfect. It must have been going off for some time but he couldn't hear over the music or Mira or the highway. He let all of his air out at once and dared to listen to the single voicemail Jellal left. It said simply,

"You better be dead."

Funny guy.

Laxus waited until he had his car pulled up to the curb behind a strobing police car before he dared to even _think_ about calling Jellal back. "Stay in the car," he told Mira. Did he think she'd listen? At first, yes, but she was out immediately like he hadn't spoken at all. "Didn't you hear me?"

"This is my apartment. Those thorns were left for my roommate. I'm not staying in the fucking car," Mira said succinctly and left him behind.

"Alright."

That was fine. Uniforms had a perimeter set up anyway, blocking her entry into her building. "Sorry, ma'am, you can't enter. This is a crime scene—" Laxus heard one say.

Mira shared her very rude and very vocal thoughts. If she thought that it would make a difference, she was wrong.

The constable lifted his gaze from Mira to give Laxus the same treatment. Laxus had his badge out. "Homicide. This is my case."

"Techs are upstairs doing a sweep of the place now," the constable reported.

"Find anything?"

"We have a witness here that says he saw a guy move through," the constable said.

Witnesses. Laxus _hated_ witnesses. They got all fucked up, thick in the tongue, couldn't give a proper fucking report if their lives depended on it. But. It was part of the job. "Where is he?"

The constable pointed to a short and bearded man waiting at the side of the building with a cigarette in his mouth.

"Thanks."

"Wait. What about me?" Mira asked when he started off.

"Go wait in the car," Laxus told her curtly.

She might have flipped him off.

Before he visited with their witness… he had a phone to answer. This time, he felt it buzzing through the pocket of his coat. He didn't even bother checking the caller ID; he knew who it was. "Hey."

"Finally. I've been calling you for the last forty minutes." Jellal was as short and clipped as Laxus feared.

"Yeah. Sorry. I, ah—" He did _not_ want to admit he'd pulled over on the side of the highway and paid an escort to fuck him in the driver's seat of his most prized possession. Did _not._

Jellal saved him. Mostly. "Listen, Erza showed up at my apartment tonight with a fucking box of thorns someone left for her. I have techs here right now. Captain's _already_ breathing down my neck. I can't be two places at once and I have to be here."

"I got it," Laxus said.

"Thanks." Some of the tension audibly left Jellal's voice.

Laxus checked around him for listening ears. He was alone; he dropped his voice anyway. "Before we get too ahead of ourselves, are we sure that thing was for Scarlet?"

"They were left outside of her apartment."

"Two girls rent that apartment."

Jellal got quiet. "So who was it left for then?"

"That's a good question. Maybe it was an indiscriminate drop."

"Nah. Our killer's calculated."

"That's what Meredy says?"

"So what?"

"So I think we're putting a lot of stock in what she says. People are like pendulums, swinging every fucking way—"

"They go back and forth."

"What?"

"Pendulums," Jellal said. "They swing back and forth, not every which way."

"You know what the fuck I mean," Laxus said impatiently.

"Yeah. I do, sadly. Get over to the apartments. I have to finish up here."

"I'm already here." Laxus realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

Jellal laughed without humor. Someone in the background asking him a question saved his next probing remark. "I gotta go. We'll catch up after. Hey, and take good notes."

"Later," Laxus said and hung up. He had to return to his car for the notepad. Surprise, surprise, Mira was actually waiting in the front seat. She had her shoes off and her feet up on the dash. "Put them down," Laxus told her through the window. He didn't wait to see if she listened, digging out his key and opening the trunk.

He didn't actually have a notepad. His substitute? An 'Adult' adult colouring book Gramps had stashed in the trunk. At the very back was blank pages in case someone was feeling artistically inspired. There were a couple of sketches of time-heavy breasts—why his grandfather liked to draw old-lady titties was beyond him. He flipped past those and clamped the spine of the book flat so the semi-erotic scene on the cover couldn't be seen. The sharpie was for notetaking.

* * *

Their witness' name was Withy Whitburn and he lived in the apartments and worked in the Barrel. He wasn't the kind of man Laxus would typically choose for an escort but he couldn't deny that Mr. Whitburn seemed to do well enough for himself, dressed in a nice looking pair of jeans, a pair of Blundstones and a sports coat over a plain black T-shirt.

"I didn't see the guy's face very well," Mr. Whitburn said.

Laxus paused scribing down his information and looked at the man. "No?" He didn't ask _'then what fucking good are you?'_ He sure thought it, though.

"No. I was just coming up to my apartment after a late dinner with a client. I was coming in the front and he was going out the back." The back's entrance was nearest to Mira's apartment. "I saw him drop the box out front Mirajane's door. He looked at me quick, then turned his back and left."

"What did he look like?"

"Fair skin. Younger. Late twenties? He had a thin beard, I think. I couldn't see his hair colour, but his beard was pale. I wasn't close enough to see eye colour either."

"What was he wearing?" Laxus drawled, unable to hide his disdain.

"A leather jacket and a hoody. He was in dark jeans. His shoes were nice, though. Leather, I'd bet."

"You saw that all the way from the other side of the building but you can't remember exactly how he looked?" Laxus asked.

"You can tell a lot from a man by his shoes," Mr. Whitburn said. "You for instance, you like nice things but you don't always take care of them. Your shoes are quality but dirty."

"I like nice things and didn't bother to polish my shoes between the muddy grass and here," Laxus corrected, not liking being marginalized no matter how spot-on he was. His car was the exception to the rule, however with Mirajane's feet up on the dash it was quickly falling out of the 'exception' box. He glanced back toward the car to see if she'd dropped her feet. She sure did _not._

"Very well," Mr. Whitburn said dismissively.

"Look, can you tell me anything useful?" Laxus asked.

"It was a man for sure," Mr. Whitburn said. "He was big."

"Tall?"

"Yeah. Looked like he worked out or something."

"How tall was he?"

"Your height?"

Laxus scribbled that down.

"And he was wearing leather gloves. I remember that because I thought they were nice."

"Let me guess, you can tell a lot about a man by the state of his gloves, too."

"You're catching on." He winked. Laxus wrote the detail down.

"What time was this at?"

Mr. Whitburn checked his silver watch. It read two thirty-three currently. He turned his mouth down. "Eleven?"

Laxus adjusted his makeshift notebook and added the detail.

"Is that an erotic colouring book?"

He kept his mouth straight; his neck felt hot. "I wasn't really planning on being here tonight."

"Don't be ashamed. I have a friend that draws them. If you want, I can get you a good price—"

Laxus spoke over him. "You didn't think it was suspicious that a man you've never seen before was in the building?"

He switched gears as fast as an automatic transmission. "Sometimes, Mirajane takes callers when her roommate isn't home."

"Does she…"

"Don't tell _Tante_ Rosemary, though," Mr. Whitburn said. "I don't want Mirajane to get into trouble."

And not just because he thought she was a nice girl; Laxus could see it in the man's eye. Mira had quite the fan club. "Can't be helped."

"She'll be fired."

Laxus crossed his arms. "This is a murder investigation, Mr. Whitburn, and your friend has been targeted. Her life is more important than her job."

The man looked properly abashed. "Yes, Detective."

"Do you have any more information?"

"That's everything."

"Thanks. I'll contact you again if I need anything else." He started to head back with the intent of putting out an APB for their guy; Mr. Whitburn was still talking.

"I'm so scared, Detective. What if this loon comes after me, too? He knows I saw him. What if he's watching right now? What if—""

Laxus looked at him dryly, trying to determine if he was joking or not.

Not.

"…Mr. Whitburn, you're a little bit out of the Cardinal's usual fare, understand?" Gone was his 'people are pendulums' philosophy. "So far, he's only wanted girls. I don't think that's changing anytime soon."

Mr. Whitburn took in a deep, deep breath, composing himself. "You're right."

"Lock your doors tonight," Laxus said anyway. "And keep your eye out." Just in case he was wrong.

"Thank you, Detective."

He left before Mr. Whitburn could drag him into another melt-down. He needed to get this APB out. They couldn't peg him as the killer but a person of interest? For sure. Laxus bet if they dragged him in, he'd have a lot of interesting things to say. And then he needed to talk to _Tante_ Rosemary. He'd spied her attempting to push through the two uniforms stationed at the rear entrance, tasked with keeping the scene secure.

* * *

Opening the Roadrunner's door invited Dallas Green's _Sleeping Sickness_ to edge out. Mira was inside, curled in her wrap with her phone in her hand. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her lipsticked mouth was puffed out in a sleepy pout.

"Can I go back in?" she asked.

"CSU's finishing up," Laxus told her. "There wasn't much to go off of." They'd lifted prints off the door but given that their witness said their suspect was wearing gloves, he thought it was a big waste of time. Not only that but their only solid evidence had been removed from the scene. No cameras and no other witnesses had made themselves known. "But I need some more of your time."

She almost looked like she was going to tease; whatever she'd been working up to saying fizzled out. "Why?"

"Mr. Whitburn said you had men come through your apartment whenever Erza wasn't home. To make some cash on the side. We need to talk about that." With any luck, one of them would match.

"You summed it up right there," she said. "There isn't anything else to say."

"How are they getting in?"

Her fingers squeezed her phone tight. She didn't try to lie, though. "I have one extra key that I give to them. They leave it when they come by."

"And where is it now?"

She looked like she was going to cry. "I—I lost it."

He had a lot of other questions primed but was interrupted by the sight of the Barrel's Matriarch crossing over the lawn to his car. She'd been busy making phone calls but now there was a van at the side of the road reading _Lock and Key_ and a man was rummaging around in the back, looking for equipment to change the compromised lock. Despite the fact that their suspect could have picked the old one, she wasn't in the business of taking chances. It didn't look good if her workers were put in danger and she didn't do everything she could to put an end to it.

"You should know I told her sometimes you invite men into your apartment."

Mira's face paled. "Detective…"

"I'm sorry, Mirajane. We need to make sure everyone's safe."

She did start to cry now. Despite the tears, she opened her door and got out before _Tante_ Rosemary could request an audience. Laxus tried not to listen; it was impossible. Mira's voice rose. She told the woman that she needed extra money. She begged for forgiveness. _Tante_ Rosemary offered none. She told Mira she could stay long enough to get her things together. She wouldn't be getting a key; if she wanted inside, she had to come into the main office and someone would escort her over.

The conversation was over in less than a minute, then _Tante_ Rosemary was taking her furs and her bouncing golden hair and her voluptuous body back toward the police officers by the back doors. Mira wiped her face, smoothed her hair, fixed her dress and got back into the car. She didn't say anything as she put on her seatbelt. Laxus tried to think of something to say; he had nothing so he put the car in drive and took them to the station.

* * *

"Mirajane Strauss has a key she's handing out to people and Erza Scarlet is moving evidence. The DA thinks that she did it on purpose. He even went as far as to suggest that its possible those girls know the killer, Jellal, and they're covering up for him."

"Anything is possible," he said. "But that's not how it is." Had his palms ever been so sweaty?"

"Really?"

"Really, really."

"Then go ahead, tell me in your own words what the hell she was doing at your apartment and make it good because this doesn't look good on anyone."

"Captain…"

She raised a thin, dark brow expectantly.

He hated when she looked at him like that. It wasn't very often. Sliding below the line of fire while getting his job done quick had been a philosophy that he'd lived by religiously. And then Erza happened. She was a harbinger of bad times. That was the only explanation. Every time she showed up, his life went to fuck. He cleared his throat. "Mirajane was just trying to make some extra money and Erza… She panicked."

"And lifted evidence, wandered through the street to your apartment?"

He used to be a good liar. He felt like he couldn't do it to save his life—or his job—just then. "She thought it was a joke."

Pathetic.

She thought it was pathetic, too. He was one of her best detectives, though, and he'd bet right: she wasn't going to throw him out. Yet.

"How did she know where to find you?"

"She said someone told her which apartment building was mine." That at least was true. He didn't bother telling the Captain that it was someone in the force. She'd have the place torn apart looking for their leak; as far as Jellal knew, it could have been the fucking janitor. Erza wasn't talking no matter how he wheedled her.

She laced her fingers together and leaned forward over her large burnished and tidy desk. "Someone? Someone from the Prayer days?"

She wasted little time jumping to conclusions. That was the easiest explanation, though, so Jellal shrugged vaguely, letting her believe it could be so.

She looked at him with mild disgust. She wasn't at all subtle with her feelings regarding Jellal's past. He'd never pretended to be anything but what he was, though, and he was good at what he did.

"You know it's those connections that gets stuff done."

She sat back, visibly wrestling with something. Finally, she said, "When you came through the academy, Commissioner Gryder assured me that you were worth my time but since you were brought to him on the recommendation of _Tante_ Alba, I've wondered for years, Jellal, are you spying for her?"

"I thought this was about Erza Scarlet?"

"This is about _you,_ Detective. Tores wonders and frankly, sometimes, so do I."

"You know I'm not."

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. She looked like she could use a drink though it was far too early for that kind of thing. She pushed back hair that normally would have been straightened and sprayed and looked at him with eyes absent of makeup. Captain Milkovich was almost never so unkempt. It made Jellal want to smile and not for very nice reasons. "Did they pull anything off that box?"

"Nothing. It was dog roses, same as before."

"But our killer's never done this before."

No, he had not.

"Do you think it could be a copycat?"

He didn't even want to think about that. He had to be logical, though. "Could be. No other girls have shown up, though, so if it is, he's working himself up to it. Or… just could be a taunt. It's not a secret that we've been looking at the pleasure houses."

"It's not a secret you were dealing with Scarlet, either. It was all over the papers that Dan Andrews had an altercation with her. Do you think he could have left the thorns?"

Now that was a possibility. To scare her for causing him so much shit? There was a problem with that. "We never released the details about the species of rose."

"Coincidence?"

Jellal shook his head. The door opened and Laxus came through smelling like coffee and cigarettes. It had been a long time since he'd smoked; there was one tucked up over his ear now, though. And lipstick on his collar. Ultear saw it the same time Jellal did.

"Your date left herself on your collar, Detective."

Laxus pulled out the chair beside Jellal and dropped himself in. "Pardon?"

Jellal tapped his own collar. Laxus' face went through several comical evolutions, landing lastly on horror. He weathered it well, only turning the pink of a pencil eraser. "I haven't been home yet."

Ultear was not as amused as Jellal was. Her scowl was sobering for them all. "Do we have any leads?"

Jellal tried to adjust his tie and remembered he wasn't wearing one; like Laxus, he was not as put together as he would have hoped. "A few that we're going to follow up on."

"How did your trip to the Dragneels turn out?"

"They were cooperative. Didn't pan out, though."

Ultear said, "Those are the kinds of connections that get you places, Detective, not seedy whorehouses. Nothing happens in this city without Zeref Dragneel's knowledge."

Jellal didn't miss the look Laxus gave him out of the corner of his eye. "With all due respect, Captain, Zeref Dragneel isn't the only person in this city with his fingers in all of the pots. And—" He must have been crazy with lack of sleep or something. "We shouldn't be encouraging him to work with us. We should be _arresting_ him." If any of them were compromised, it was Ultear Milkovich with her 'Zeref Dragneel gives us too much money to be ceaselessly harassing him' bullshit.

Her face went dark. "As soon as you can provide some solid evidence to his illegal enterprises, we can get an arrest warrant signed but until then, he's a free man. Is that a problem?"

Sure was but he only had so much stupid in him per day and he was about to use it all up. "No, ma'am."

"Good. Get out of here then and catch this guy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And sleep, Fernandez. You look like hell."

Was he supposed to sleep or work? Both, apparently. "Yes, ma'am."

When he rose, Laxus rose. The door was closed between them when Laxus dared to suggest, "Maybe we can call her Spider instead."

"We have to talk." The look Laxus gave him was all wariness. "I'd love to razz you on your inability to pick up your phone and your fortuitous appearance at the Barrel's apartments but this is more important."

"It wasn't like that," Laxus said anyway.

"You're a shitty liar." Which made him seriously contemplate what he was about to share with his partner but they were _partners_ , and while he might not trust Laxus to tell a bullet-proof lie, he did trust him to keep his mouth shut. "Follow me."

* * *

The interior of his Charger still smelled like Erza's jasmine perfume; it was a smell that was quickly getting subsumed by ' _I haven't showered or changed my clothes in a day and a half_ ' cologne. In the underground parking lot without the light of the sun to illuminate the words on the page, Laxus used the Charger's dome light to read by.

"I can't believe I missed this."

Jellal could.

"This should go to IA," Laxus hissed.

"I _know_ that," Jellal replied quietly, "But if it goes to IA, we suddenly won't have an investigation."

"Why hasn't anyone said anything? Meredy gave you this list, right?"

Jellal thought of the note she'd stuck to the inside of one of the casefiles that said _'between you and me?'_. His workup hadn't been included but a photocopy of the Black Glove's guest list had brought Jellal to the name in question. "Yeah."

"And neither of you—"

"Not yet."

Laxus shook his head. "You're always toeing the line, man, and I like that about you but if we don't give this up right now, we're going to be in a world of hurt and judging by the atmosphere in that office this morning, Captain isn't too happy with you already."

"I haven't given it up because it's not him," Jellal said.

"It could be him."

"It's not."

"You don't know that. Dude's weird. His home life was all fucked, his parents killed and then the murderer comes back for his adoptive mother. He's obsessed with his work and cleaning up the streets. Purification, you might say. He's got that cross he wears all the time." He slapped the dash in an epiphany. "And a tattoo on his wrist. Hell, we might as well just go make the arrest now."

"It's not him," Jellal said again.

"How do you know, huh? You haven't even asked him any questions."

"Because I know. Trust me."

Laxus scrubbed his face. "You're dragging me down with you."

Jellal sat back. "You want to talk to him?"

"Fuck, yeah, I want to talk to him, but we're supposed to give—"

"Then we'll go talk to him. Off the record."

Laxus' jaw tightened. "Man…"

"Are you going to the Captain?"

The ' _I need a drink'_ look was going around full-force today. He bent the way Jellal thought he would, though. "I won't go to the Captain if you stop fucking around and call that arachnid bitch."

"Sure."

Laxus chest fell as all of the air left his lungs. "We're both going to get fired."

"Maybe. If this goes to IA, though, we're going to lose all the work we've done and a man'll go to prison because he wears a cross and has a tattoo."

"You know they'd do a better job than that."

Jellal wasn't so sure. Superintendent Tores was shooting him scathing _'work faster'_ glares every chance he got, Captain Milkovich was pushing him because the media was pushing her. It was a recipe for sloppy work. "Cinderella."

"What?"

"If the shoe fits," Jellal explained. "Doesn't matter if they cut off some toes to make it."

"You're fucking weird."

"Go home, Laxus. Sleep for a couple hours then we'll see if Spider's willing to talk."

Laxus closed the casefiles and put them back between the seats just as he found them. He didn't bother saying goodbye. Jellal watched him all the way to his yellow Plymouth and only started his own engine when Laxus had already peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Erza," Mira said quietly. Her roommate was mad. And not just a little bit mad but the _seething_ kind of mad. There was no yelling. That might have been the worst of all. She only sat looking at herself in that vanity, face an unreadable mask. She brushed her hair methodically, soft comb teeth sliding through the scarlet locks and _shushing_ like silk on silk. Mira's fingers itched to touch it because touch had always been an excellent communicator. It had never led her astray. Erza didn't look like she _wanted_ to be touched.

"If I knew she was going to fire you, too—"

"Then what, Mirajane?" Those were the first words she'd spoken since she'd walked through the front door looking harassed, exhausted and bedraggled.

"I never would have—"

"You tell me all the time how it's dangerous to walk around at night but while I'm out, you're inviting men in here away from _Tante's_ guards."

"I need the money."

Her eyes, usually warm, were somehow cold when they met Mira's in the mirror. "For what?"

She never asked. Mira thought it was because she never cared to know. And suddenly she did. She might have confessed on any other day but today… today she couldn't squeeze the words out. They seemed inadequate though her purpose had driven her to great lengths.

Erza shook her head and went back to brushing her hair. Mira turned from her and started gathering her things.

"Where are you going to go?" Erza asked finally.

"I don't know," Mira admitted.

"When I first came to the city, I worked for the Prayer."

"I never knew that." There were a lot of things she didn't know about Erza.

" _Tante_ Alba would hire you."

Mira swallowed a lump in her throat. "Where are you going to go?"

Erza met her eyes in the mirror again; some of her anger had dulled. "Maybe to the Prayer." She hesitated. " _Tante_ Alba likes girls that can work together."

Tears made a reappearance. Mira couldn't hold them back.

"Think about it." Erza went back to brushing her hair. Mira eventually went back to packing.

* * *

She didn't think she'd been followed but Mira looked around anyway, wanting to be _sure_ before she made her purpose here obvious. While the occasional car moved down the suburban-rural road, none stared at her or slowed, no one rolled down their window and called accusations or questions.

Mira waited until the road was absolutely clear before she fingered the green buzzer button.

"Hello, Mirajane."

Mira kept her hair out of her eyes and looked directly to where the camera was. "Mr. Dragneel. I'd like to see him, please."

The gate clicked open without question. Mira did another last check before she slipped inside the wrought iron-edged property. Her flats clapped loudly on the interlock brick driveway. Her already aching feet protested every step. It was a long walk from the Barrel to here and she hadn't taken it slowly or unencumbered. The bag she carried on her back was overstuffed with clothes and makeup and shoes and money. It was everything she owned in the entire world. It was sad it all fit into a canvas bag, albeit a massive one.

Halfway down the driveway she saw his hulking figure and felt her mouth pull up in a smile. Despite the tumult she felt and their less-than-storybook history, she was always happy to see her brother, even if he wore a suit bought with Dragneel money, even if his hand was blue and purple from some altercation she probably didn't want to learn much about.

"What are you doing here, Mira?" he asked when he was close enough to be heard.

She cut right to the point. "The police are looking for you."


	7. Chapter 7

_Blue light. Hard floors. Vanilla perfume. Peals of laughter. Smooth calves sliding over each other as she circled his kneeling form, scarlet high heels_ tick, tick, ticking _. She was a girl dressed in red. She belonged to the colour and the colour belonged to her. It was in her name—Erza Scarlet—as it was in the colour of her hair. Did he think that was her_ real _name? No. Not a girl like her. Not a girl that left squares of leather and snakes of rope in her wake. Not a girl that thumbed open his mouth with sweet and cruel zeal and sloppily splashed champagne in. It filled and slopped over, soaking the uniform she hadn't let him shuck off just yet._

_She let him swallow and drank from the bottle herself. Just as quick, she dropped it to the floor, losing interest. Golden liquid spilled out, slicking the auburn floorboards. Her heels splashed in it as she lowered herself into his lap. She licked his neck, his chin, crushed her mouth to his and_ finally _worked on his uniform. He touched her. She unfurled like the thorny rose she was._

Symphonies of electronic horns tore Jellal out of the dream that was more of a memory. He stared at his stuccoed ceiling, unwillingly remembering the events _before_ the hotel room. The street corner, the warning he'd meant to give out though he was no longer on duty. Erza had bent him as easily as thin copper wire. A look. A smile. The right words and he was a fool, though he knew her to be a liar even as she was weaving the lies. He'd taken her to a bar. And then the gun range like she asked. That room stood out clearly in his mind. Empty, grey and cold. They weren't supposed to be there. He was doing a lot of things he wasn't supposed to.

In the monochromatic world, Erza had stood out in her tight red leather dress. What she could possibly want to do there was beyond him; he wasn't in the business of asking questions. He remembered gently lifting the earmuff from her head so he could whisper instructions to her. She'd shimmied her weight from hip to hip, rubbing over his not-so-subtle erection.

" _Like this?"_ Memory Erza asked.

He'd adjusted her grip on the gun. " _Keep both eyes open."_

_"I'm ready."_

When he'd put the earmuff's on her head again he'd lingered, letting hair as red as blood slide through his fingers. He thought plenty about Erza Scarlet was fake. Not that, though.

She pulled the trigger. And missed her mark. She laughed and tried again.

Beau's grumbling encouraged Jellal to tug away from the memory and silence his alarm. He rose, thought religiously of work to get rid of his erection, and got ready to take Beau for another run. It'd be a shorter one today; his muscles were still tired from yesterday's.

* * *

"Did you hear me?" Mira pressed.

Elfman took her bag from her. "Why do you have all of this stuff?"

He was avoiding her. She answered him shortly so they could get back on point. "I got fired. I'm looking for a new place to stay. You have to lay low. One of the cops that's working the Cardinal case put out an APB for you. I heard him—"

"Mira." Elfman looked at her plainly with eyes as blue as the sea. "The cops are always looking for me. Even when they don't know they're looking for me, they're looking for me. Don't worry about it. Why were you fired?"

His profession of choice abraded her more than usual this afternoon. "You don't _have_ to work for the Dragneels."

His expression was desert-dry.

"You choose to," Mira reminded him.

"I like what I do."

That was the first honest thing he'd said to her in years. He started toward a bench beneath the protection of an old white pine. He used large, bruised hands to wipe off the sun-worn wood and dropped his bulk. The bench sagged beneath his weight. Mira waited for it to deposit him on the ground. It did not.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me or come and talk?" Elfman asked.

Mira cut across the driveway and onto the damp grass-absent soil. Her feet sank into the needle-choked ground. It felt glorious not to be walking on hard pavement. She wanted a bath to soak her feet in. She needed to _get_ one first. It wasn't the first day she'd woken up homeless; it was one of the most unpleasant, though. There wasn't anyone to blame but herself.

She sat beside her brother; he set her rucksack down on his leather-clad feet so her belongings didn't get soaked. "Why were you fired?"

"Whitney ratted about me taking extra clients when Erza wasn't home. And… I told the cops I lost the extra key I had made."

Elfman's shoulders sank as he sighed loudly from his nose. His opinions about her profession were as vocal as hers about his. They were quite the pair. He took the silver chain from around his neck and handed it back to her. Mira clutched the skin-warmed key—one of two copies she had made. It didn't do anyone much good now so she broke it; it helped to alleviate some of her frustration.

"Did you drop that box at my apartment?"

Elfman finally looked at her. His lip curled. "It was there when I showed up."

Her brother was such an excellent liar these days, Mira wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. He was still her brother, though. If she couldn't trust him, who _could_ she trust? "Why were you over last night?" He very rarely made an appearance.

"To check on you," Elfman said. "I was in the area taking care of some business and wanted to make sure you were doing alright with this guy lurking around."

She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not. She knew what _taking care of some business_ meant for the Dragneels' chief enforcer.

"Mira… I asked Mr. Dragneel if we could spare some bodies."

She pinched her eyes shut. "Elfman, the last thing I want is to have Zeref Dragneel's bodyguards following me around."

"Someone left you a box of thorns."

"You don't know they were for me. They could have been for Erza."

"They were for you," he said with such certainty that she tried to decide if he knew more than what he was letting on. There wasn't _much_ that happened in Magnolia without Zeref's knowledge and Elfman was right by his side day in and day out.

"Do you know something I don't?"

"That you're my sister and I have to assume the worst," Elfman said. "I don't _know_ they were for you," he said when she gave him a scathing _no-nonsense_ look. "But I'm worried they were."

"Well, the police already offered me protection. They drove Erza and me home, then set up out front of the building."

Her brother looked at her disapprovingly. "How did you give them the slip?"

"A wig, some contouring, confidence," Mira said with a wink.

He was not very impressed. "If you're going to slip out of the police's sights, you're taking Zeref's guys. I don't care if you don't like it," Elfman said over her objection. When the hell did her brother get so pushy? He was always this way when it came to his family, though. Despite their differences, he wanted her to be safe.

"If the police know I'm being followed by Zeref Dragneel's men they're going to start asking why," Mira informed him. "I can't dodge them forever. I just wanted to give myself a few hours to come here and see you."

Elfman's phone buzzed from his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the caller ID. "Give me a minute." He rose and took the call, walking far enough away and dropping his voice enough that Mira couldn't hear his baritone drawl. The call was over in a minute. Elfman returned.

"Zeref?" Mira asked with a definite hint of contempt.

"I have to take care of something. It'll only take me a couple of hours. You want to come up to the house for a bit?"

"Is that an official invitation from your boss?"

He dropped the pretext. "Yeah."

_Tante_ Rosemary drilled it into her head which members of society were pawns and which pushed the pawns around. Zeref Dragneel was of the latter variety. Though she no longer worked for the Barrel, she had every intention of still being an escort so she couldn't rightly burn bridges when the Dragneels had already lined her pockets so thoroughly.

Her best smile was lost on her brother, just like her sticky sweet "I'd like that." Zeref was watching, though, she was sure of it. Elfman took her bag and led her up the overlong driveway.

* * *

Despite the fact that _Be Frank_ had a full pub menu, people didn't usually come there to eat. Their loss, the food was actually good. Jellal watched Laxus order a ridiculous amount and pound it all back without breaking a sweat. He ate slower, moving through a stacked cheese-steak sandwich, thinking about their night. "Seeing her again?"

Laxus looked at him sourly. "And who's that?"

They both knew who he was talking about; Jellal played along. "Whoever left lipstick on your collar."

Laxus' phone buzzed, saving him; good to see it was still working. Jellal's followed suit. He read the text from one of the lab techs. Short and sweet. DNA was back from Laura's nails. No match. He wasn't really surprised. He wasn't even convinced that it was from their killer.

Laxus looked at his phone disgustedly.

"We knew it wasn't a good lead anyway," Jellal said.

The phone buzzed again. "There were drugs in her system when she died," Jellal read.

"Most of the escorts are stoned," Laxus replied. "That tells us nothing."

Not much. "Snow, though, and you know who the largest dealer is in the area. We have one more thing to ask the Spider."

Laxus shoved his plate of ribs aside and brushed cornbread crumbs from his lap. He, like Jellal, was in plainclothes. Despite the outfit, clasped to his ankle was his gun. It likely wasn't visible to most but Jellal knew as soon as Laxus stepped out of his Plymouth and crossed the pothole-ridden parking lot. He couldn't shake the cop-walk if he spent all year trying.

"It's a good thing she knows us."

"Huh?" Laxus asked around his late-day cup of coffee. He'd been a million miles away.

"Spider. Otherwise, she'd pick you out from a mile away and find someplace else to be." She didn't like cops, that was no secret. She'd deal with Jellal on occasion if he smiled right.

"The one time having a sordid past works in your favour, huh?"

Jellal laughed without humor. "Hardly sordid. I watched the street for the Prayer's Matriarch."

"For cops."

"For anyone she didn't want coming through," he corrected.

"Cops."

Jellal chugged back his water beneath one of Laxus' skeptical looks. That look said his partner knew his story didn't quite fly straight. He didn't defend himself.

"What is it with you and her? Why are you still protecting her, huh?" Laxus asked. "That was years ago."

His and _Tante_ Alba's relationship was complicated. She was the closest thing he had for a mother in the six years he watched for her. She was also an enabler. She was also the woman that had handed him over to Gryder when he was eighteen, telling him that Jellal's talents were wasted on criminal activity. She'd paid for police foundations and asked him to promise to give it a try.

He'd promised. He'd also resented her for some time after that; people on the other side of the fence paid well for men with sharp eyes. Eventually, though, he discovered that he actually liked law. He found a cop-walk of his own and started at MPD with Commissioner Gryder's recommendation, despite his not-so-secret past.

"I'm not protecting her, there just isn't much to tell."

"I'm your partner, man. We've worked together for years. Give me the gritty details," Laxus begged.

"None to tell." Jellal flagged down the waitress. She came with their bill without being asked. Jellal flicked it to the other side of the table. Laxus caught it and paid without complaint.

"We'll take my car," Jellal said. It was less conspicuous than a bright yellow Roadrunner.

"You're still set on doing this, eh? We could just hand it to IA and—"

"Not until we have to."

"Jellal—"

"He wasn't included in Meredy's original files because he doesn't fit the bill."

"Pendulums," Laxus reminded.

"Doesn't fit the bill," Jellal said again.

"Then why are we going?"

"Because we don't do shoddy work."

Laxus looked longingly at his coffee. Jellal read him like a book: he wished it was beer. Homicide birthed vice.

* * *

On the outskirts of town, Jellal guided his Charger up the driveway of a tidy white brick bungalow. The black Sierra was in the driveway and there was Gray, sitting on the lip of a limestone edged pond. He'd just gotten off work and was saying goodbye to the nanny while his daughter ran through the front lawn chasing a yappy cocker spaniel. As Jellal approached, he thought again _not a killer_ but he couldn't be sure. Laxus had some things right. Gray had a violent past. His parents dead and his adoptive mother by the same killer that was still on the lam. His girlfriend disappeared years ago just after their daughter was born and no one had heard from her since. It was also hard to ignore that he was so focused on justice that sometimes, he bent the rules a little to get things done. He never went down for it, though he wasn't the most careful. He had friends in the right places, that much was clear.

Gray's eyes locked on the Charger as it came up the driveway. He called something to his daughter, a sharp look on his face, and started ushering her and the dog inside.

"That looks like an innocent man," Laxus said sarcastically, seatbelt already undone and hand on the door latch.

Jellal wasn't as quick to drop the guillotine. He edged past the nanny and threw his car in park, one eye on the bumper of the Sierra so he didn't smash it, the other on Gray just in case he was running like Laxus thought he was.

Laxus was out of the car first. Jellal hurried to follow him while doing his best to look non-confrontational. He wished his partner had a better game-face. Did he scowl always? There were some things a man did that was not conducive while scowling. Maybe it was more because of _that_ than him getting Mirajane fired that Laxus thought he wouldn't see her again.

The front door opened just as Laxus reached the deck and Gray came back out. "Hey."

Jellal watched Laxus' irritation and general _this is the chase_ excitement go from eleven to two. If disappointment could be seen, he'd be wearing it like a shroud. "Hey," Jellal greeted.

"Sorry." Gray closed the door. "Weiner gets weird around new people."

"Weiner?" Laxus asked.

"The spaniel." Gray looked abashed. "Aria named him." He brushed right over that when he was able; he didn't like to talk about his daughter or his MIA girlfriend or anything else personal, really. "What's up?"

Laxus opened his mouth; Jellal cut in over him. "We wanted some insight on a case we're working."

Gray looked at his house, at their clothes and Jellal's personal vehicle. He wasn't a fool. "You found my name on the Black Glove's guest list."

"Yeah."

Gray sat himself down on the deck's stairs. "It's not a crime."

"It's not," Jellal agreed.

"Murder is, though." Trust Laxus to be as tactful as ever.

Jellal laughed it off before Gray could shut down. "We have some girls that came back with drugs in their system. Coke. Any lines on the dealers in this district?"

Carefully, Gray said, " _Tante_ Alba. Black Dragon."

"Dragon. Yeah. He works out of Somnium, right?" Colloquially known as Dreaming Tree on the streets, a private club in the heart of Magnolia and the lair of their Spider.

"Don't fuck with me," Gray said. "You know that as well as I do. Am I a suspect or not?"

"If we thought you were, it'd be IA here telling you you're not going to work tomorrow," Jellal again spoke over Laxus.

"Then why are you here?"

"No one likes sloppy police work," Laxus said. "We're just crossing our T's. Where were you on the night of March second around one in the morning?"

"Here." Before they could ask anything else, he said, "I can't give you an alibi because I was asleep in my bed alone."

Jellal wished he's said something different. "I wouldn't worry about it. Like I said, we're just being thorough."

"Until I need to." A cold breeze grabbed his no-longer slicked back hair and pushed it in front of his eyes. Gray brushed it back impatiently. There were deep bruises on his hand.

"Can't see why you would. Like we said, just crossing our T's." Jellal nodded to the bruises. "What happened?"

"Playing basketball with a few of the guys the other day and jammed my finger," Gray said.

"That's shitty. You should wrap it up or something." Jellal switched gears so hopefully he didn't think it mattered much at all. "Black Dragon you said?"

"Yeah. He's not much of a conversationalist, though."

"Maybe he's feeling differently today," Jellal told him.

"She's not going to let you walk in to Dreaming Tree."

"I'm not a narcotics detective, Fullbuster, you'd be surprised," Jellal said with a smile he knew was cocky.

Gray relaxed.

"Thanks for the chat. Tell your daughter happy late birthday for us, too," Jellal said before nudging a stubborn-looking Laxus into motion. It only took seconds for the front door to close as Gray retreated. Jellal heard the deadbolt engage.

"That's it?" Laxus griped quietly. "If we're going to risk our jobs here we should have busted his balls more."

"We don't know he's done anything wrong yet," Jellal said. Except lie to their faces. He just had to figure out why.

"We know he wasn't playing ball, we were _there_ ," Laxus hissed. "He's good for it. This should go to IA."

"Not yet." There was more to the story, he was sure of it.

Laxus phone went off again. He pulled it out and read the text. "Fuck sakes."

"What?"

"Mirajane Strauss," he said. "She gave her detail the slip."

"How? I thought they were outside her apartment?"

"She's a sly fox?" Laxus suggested.

There was another name his partner wanted to dub her; he refrained. It was then Jellal realized that he actually kind of liked her. He laughed as he dropped himself into the driver's seat.

"What?" Laxus asked warily, joining him.

"That must have been some fuck." He turned the key in the ignition; eight cylinders purred to life.

His partner didn't even have a good response.

Jellal said, "Get their detail on the line; Erza might know where Mira got to."

"They asked," Laxus said.

"And?"

"And she says she doesn't know."

"Where's Erza now?"

"The Prayer."

Jellal kept his poker face in place and turned the car out of Gray's driveway in that direction.

"Where are you going?"

"To hunt for an AWOL escort," Jellal said.

"Constables can do that."

Jellal laughed without humor. "You know what Tores will say, right?"

"'You do shitty work. Find that girl before she winds up dead and the media blames it on us. If you don't, you'll be looking for work elsewhere'?" Laxus said dryly.

Something like that. "Do you know why they called him Zero in his day?"

Laxus did his best Jellal impression, dropping his voice and knitting his brows in what was supposed to be a 'sage' and 'somber' expression. " _Because he's had zero unsolved cases.'_

Jellal didn't know if it was _actually_ true. Commissioner Gryder had relayed the story to him Jellal's first day on the job. It might have just been to scare him straight, nail out any residual penchant he might have had to his less-than-moral youth. Or it might have just been the warning he needed. Superintendent Tores handled failure even less gracefully than Captain Milkovich.

* * *

In the light of day, the Prayer looked exactly like what it was: an old church that had seen one too many sins. Stationed out front by the as-of-yet flowerless gardens were two uniformed officers. Currently, they were being harassed by not only a furious looking _Tante_ Alba, but an equally irritated Erza. The two men looked like they were about to be spit roasted and not in a good way.

"She is safe in my house."

" _Tante—_ " one of the uniforms started.

_Tante_ Alba lifted her gaze and found Jellal when he closed the Charger's door. She looked at him exasperatedly. "Detective. These men will make my customers nervous."

Erza looked at him just as pleadingly.

"It's not business time yet, is it?" Jellal asked, checking his watch. Eight. The sun was setting.

"It is always business time when your business is pleasure," _Tante_ Alba said. "Erza, I would like to meet you and your friend but if you cannot do something about these men then I will be forced to refuse." She left in a swirl of an orange, red and gold wrap. The church's doors closed.

On the steps, Erza looked close to tears. She pushed back that bolt of scarlet hair and blinked into the setting sun. She was composed in seconds, her moment of weakness but a memory. "Detectives."

"Can we talk, Erza?" Jellal asked.

She lifted her hand and waved him on in exasperation.

Jellal looked to the uniforms flanking the steps. "A moment?" They disappeared. He'd be happy if Laxus left, too, but his partner was wearing what Jellal had come to think of as his 'Pillar' face. He wasn't going anywhere.

Erza dropped herself on the steps. The dress she'd worn to impress _Tante_ Alba, a small thing as black as midnight, rode up high enough that Jellal had to find somewhere else for his eyes. "I told them, I don't know where she is."

"You haven't heard from her all day?" Laxus asked.

"The last I saw her, she was contouring her face and then stuffing her rucksack down the laundry shoot."

"You knew she was slipping past the guards?"

"Did I say that?" Erza asked. She answered before Laxus could. "No."

"What you say and what you mean are sometimes different things," Jellal told her.

She had the decency to look ashamed. It was worth it, despite the _'what the fuck is that supposed to mean_ ' look he earned himself from Laxus.

He busied himself with other things: sitting next to Erza, breathing in her jasmine perfume, taking the chance to study her shamelessly. It was hard to tell Dream Erza and Real Erza apart. His mind had—surprisingly—done her justice, copying her freckles and her sharply curved lips, her toffee coloured eyes, eyes that could turn mischievous in a blink.

He wished for a moment they were back in that hotel room, that the floor was hard beneath his knees and Erza's high heels were singing sharp hymns on the damp floor as she circled in red lace underthings. He cleared his throat. "Have you tried calling her?"

"Yes. She was supposed to meet me here an hour ago."

"Is there anywhere you can think of that she would have gone?"

"Not as far as I know."

"You're her roommate, aren't you?" Laxus pressed.

"And her lover and the closest thing she has to a friend, so the fuck what?" She was in a bad mood. Jellal didn't need to know her very well to see that.

"So—"

Erza's phone belted out a quick _choo choo_ as a text came through, cutting into whatever Laxus had been trying to say. She tugged it out of her purse quickly and read the screen. Jellal, thinking of gun ranges and vanilla and earmuffs and silk read over her shoulder.

Erza caught his eye through night-black lashes before she leaned away. "She'll be here soon."

"That was her?" Laxus asked.

"Yes, _Detective,_ that was her. She's alive, she's on her way."

Always on the lookout for abnormal behaviour, Jellal wondered, "Does she always flake out on you like that?"

"No."

In the wake of her words, a black Audi pulled up to the curb. The door opened, affording them a look inside. None other than Mirajane climbed over the seats and the other person occupying the space. She paused halfway and gave Zeref Dragneel the most indecent kiss on the cheek Jellal had ever seen, then let her feet hit the pavement. The driver already had her bag out of the back of the car. He handed it to her with a bow of his bald head. Doors closed; the car was on its way again.

Mira clopped to the stairs in a pair of flats; somehow, those, too, looked indecent. Maybe it wasn't the shoes but the amount of leg she showed.

"Erza." Mira ignored the police. "Sorry I'm late."

"You can't just ditch police detail," Laxus said as she passed.

Mira smiled at him. "I'd never dodge you."

Jellal watched his partner, expecting a scolding. Nothing. He did it for Laxus. "Unregistered work is a felony, Miss Strauss."

"Who said I was working?" she asked. "Only _networking_ , Detective. I'm a career woman. A good client base will get me into the best bordellos."

Erza stood when Mira was close and took her by the waist. The obvious anger she'd been toting evaporated like smoke in the wind. Together, they ascended the stairs, hip to hip looking very much like trouble. Erza looked back one more time over her shoulder, catching Jellal's eye. He wanted to call her back but didn't have any comprehensible reason. To stretch out the moment, he said, "Don't ditch your protection. They're there for a reason."

Erza turned away.

The doors opened and _Tante_ Alba's guards welcomed them inside. The converted Church's alter and the debauchery that was happening upon it was closed out by a final snap of the doors.

"Can we go in there?" Laxus asked.

"Not if we're just going to look," Jellal replied. "Come on. We have other stuff to be doing."

Laxus followed him back to the car. "She is actually tequila girl, isn't she?"

Jellal sighed. "She's tequila girl."

"I fucking knew it. Why did you lie to me?"

Jellal rolled his eyes skyward. "Because it didn't matter."

"It matters."

It seemed for the first time that day they agreed on something.

* * *

Somnium, or Dreaming Tree, was a multi-tiered establishment illuminated by electric blue and white lights when it was open for business. It was still too early for the doors to be unlocked and with the windows being so heavily tinted, there was no way to see inside. There wasn't any doubt in Jellal's mind that the place was occupied, though, he could hear a sweet soprano voice ebbing from the club's interior. Someone was on stage entertaining the Matriarch.

He pounded on the door and automatically fell into a 'cop' stance. It couldn't be helped. By the time he noticed that his hands were on his belt and he was studying the surrounding post-industrial strip, cataloging in that infuriating _way_ he had, he'd been spotted by more than one person milling around that likely had reason to avoid the cops.

Somehow, he didn't think _Tante_ was going to be happy that he paid her a visit if people were talking about how the cops showed up at her door.

The door opened slowly and a woman with hair as white as Mirajane's poked her head out. "Detective."

"Angel. Nice to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same but you usually ruin my day when we meet."

Jellal gave her half a smile. "You're as charming as ever."

"I'm not paid to be charming."

"Can we come in?" Laxus asked.

Angel listened to the piece she had in her ear as someone gave her instructions. A second later, she stepped back and opened the door, ushering them inside.

The lights were dark beneath the bar and around the stage where a woman with short blue hair sang into the microphone. Her cherry red lips must have been leaving stains for whoever was up next. Jellal studied her features religiously, committing them to memory. He glanced at his partner and knew Laxus saw it, too. Despite his inability to take any decent notes, he had an eye for faces.

"Why are you here?" Angel barely had to compete with the soft song the girl sang.

"Where is she?" Jellal asked.

Angel's black lipsticked mouth curled up high enough that her straight and white teeth were visible. "Busy."

"Tell her I want to talk to her."

She leaned in close enough that Jellal could feel her breath on his ear when she whispered, "She's busy."

He played along, letting her run the game she was so fond of, and whispered back, "You haven't even asked."

"I don't need to, Detective Fernandez. I know she'll tell you to go away."

Laxus was much less patient. Raising his voice above the singer's, he yelled, "Spider! Come out!"

"That's rude," Angel told him.

"Spider!" Laxus' voice echoed off the club's walls. The music stopped. "Don't waste our time!"

"I think you should leave now."

He ignored her, heading toward the stairs that led to the second level. "Come out—"

Angel abandoned Jellal and got in Laxus' way. "Leave, Detective Dreyar."

"Or what?"

Her hand was filled by something that glinted in the pale pot lights. "Are you smart enough to fill in the blanks?"

Jellal didn't remember taking his gun out and aiming but there it was. "Don't."

In all directions hammer's dropped, the _clicks_ cold. Jellal didn't dare to look in the shadows to see exactly _how many_ guns were aimed at them.

"Take your gun off me, Detective," Angel said.

"Not until you take yours off my partner."

"He's a menace."

"Sure he is. But he's my partner."

"If you pull that trigger, you'll be dead," she warned.

"But so would you."

"Would you really be so stupid?"

"He's a good partner."

"Angel," came a new and familiar voice. "You shouldn't threaten our guests. The police keep girls like you and me safe." As ever, she was condescending.

Angel's gun disappeared. One by one, invisible guns found new places to point. Jellal put his own away. Laxus straightened and let out the breath he'd been holding. He adjusted his jacket, looking collected to everyone but Jellal; he knew his partner's tells. That vein popped out on his forehead, the twitching of his fingers by his thigh.

Jellal lifted his gaze and looked upon the lady of the hour. "Have you ever needed anyone's protection, _Tante_?"

"Never. But I appreciate when a man tries." Dressed all in black, she descended the stairs looking very much like the Spider Laxus had dubbed her. When she got to the ground level, Jellal leaned in and kissed her cheek like she expected. She told him she'd missed him and then she ordered them a drink.


	8. Chapter 8

Above the door and the altar crosses hung. The once white symbols were splattered with the Matriarch's favorite black paint. Erza's eyes didn't get caught on the particulars; she'd seen them before. What she _did_ look at was the altar itself. People paid good money to be there. It was currently occupied by two men and one woman, the latter watching from the sidelines, twisting her wedding ring around on her finger. The man with the matching band was the one kneeling much in the way Erza remembered making Jellal kneel. He shook like Jellal hadn't, his breath coming in quick gulps as the other man, this one tall and broad and beautiful, circled him, fingers touching and teaching. Though Erza couldn't see the kneeling man's face, covered as it was by one of the masks favorited by _Tante_ Alba's guests, she imagined that he looked scared. This wasn't what he was used to, even if he _wanted_ to be, even if his wife wanted him to be.

Shirts came open, pants came down, bodies brushed bodies and tongues came out. The shaking never stopped; it slowed, though, and the moans began. _Tante_ Alba smiled and confided lowly, "I thought that man would leave his lovely wife here. I suspect when they married, he was expecting a lamb. Instead, he got a hungry fox. I'm glad to see that he isn't so slow as to be eaten." She gave a knowing look to Erza. Erza tongued her cheek, feeling for the old scar that had all but disappeared. There were no cuts on her cheeks now, no teeth loose, no tears to blur her vision or guns to make her palms feel numb when she pulled the trigger.

Wounds healed and time softened their memory.

Until a piece of that memory came waltzing back into your life.

_Tante_ Alba's slippered feet _shushed_ over the polished burnt-gold floors. She moved past the places where pews used to be. Now there were rooms with black curtains instead of walls. Despite what customers paid to be in the Prayer, the accommodations were far from extravagant. Sin was birthed and slaughtered just as quickly. Men and women moved in and out of this section of the Prayer at an alarming speed. Above was where the true rooms were. Even those, in Erza's memory, were small and intimate with pocket doors and single beds or sometimes, no beds at all.

_Tante_ led them to an ornate spiral staircase, the bannisters wrought-iron, the stairs more burnished gold wood. She lifted her colourful wrap and ascended. Erza released Mira's waist because the space wasn't large enough for them both, and followed closely behind, her eyes on the golden anklet surrounding _Tante_ Alba's dark-skinned foot.

At the top of the stairs, _Tante_ Alba went right to the largest room on the floor: her office. Inside, the walls were brick. Against the back wall was a fireplace that nurtured a small blaze. Beside it was a leaf-green coloured couch that sat upon a carpet that was as black as the midnight sky. _Tante_ Alba took herself to the couch and draped over its cushions, as graceful as she'd ever been. Things as human as age could never touch her.

The woman took a snifter off the end table at her elbow and poured herself a glass of brandy. Erza didn't ask for one, though she desperately _wanted_ to.

"To what do I owe the privilege of having such beautiful women grace my halls?" Her accent was as thick as ever; Erza had to listen closely to catch her words. It was easier back when she saw _Tante_ Alba every day.

" _Tante_ , my partner and I are looking for work."

She got a cant to her dark brow. "Your partner?"

Erza took Mira's hand for _Tante_ Alba's benefit. "Mirajane and I have worked together for a long time."

_Tante_ Alba set her drink down and unfolded from her position. "Come." She waved and Mira went, standing before the Matriarch in a way that was practiced. She was used to this treatment; all the Matriarchs demanded a close look at what they were hiring.

"I have Zeref Dragneel as a returning client," Mira said before _Tante_ Alba could begin. "If you bring us on, he'll bring good money to your establishment."

"Money isn't the only important thing in this world." _Tante_ Alba lifted Mira's chin and looked into her clear blue eyes. "Beautiful. May I?" she asked before touching Mira's body.

"Yes." Mira's cheeks were pink; Erza didn't think it was because of the workover she was getting. The dark blue one-shouldered dress she was wearing came unzipped. Mira shimmied out of it to reveal the nothing she wore beneath. _Tante_ looked her over with an expert eye.

"Your health?"

"I have no diseases. My last physical was a week ago. I have the appropriate documentation."

"And I assume the accompanying one for birth control?"

Bad business to get pregnant; clients didn't like that.

"Yes," Mira said. The pink had fled her cheeks.

"I'll be wanting to see both." She looked to Erza. "For you as well."

"Yes, _Tante._ "

She left Mira's side. Erza unzipped her dress herself and let _Tante_ Alba do her assessment. Cool and expert fingers touched a scar beneath her ribs. Erza remembered the blade that gave it to her. She didn't flinch; she'd trained herself not to long ago. When people asked how it came to be, she lied and said it was a surgery. It was easier that way. _Tante_ Alba knew the truth.

Her fingers moved on. It was over quickly. _Tante_ Alba never wasted touch or breath. Both were invaluable to her. "I remember how the men loved you. I would offer you a position but I am also looking for something."

"What?" Erza asked, pulling up her dress once more.

_Tante_ Alba came to stand before her. "Send your escort away."

Erza smoothed her dress beneath the Matriarch's watchful eye. _Tante_ Alba liked it; she knew she did. She'd sized Erza up as soon as she knocked on the church's front door and gave her a look of approval that was somehow both amatory and maternal. " _Tante_ , someone left thorns—"

"I know of your misfortunes," she interrupted. "Do you not feel safe here? My people protect us, Erza. I thought you knew that."

Yes. It didn't sit well with her, though. _What are you afraid of?_ For years she'd performed feats of daring confrontation, hammering into place those who took without asking. She was _not afraid._ Not of any man or any woman and hadn't been for a very long time. She had told herself that as she grabbed that horrid little box and descended the Barrel's apartment stairs. She had told herself that as she walked through the misting night to Jellal's apartment. She had told herself that as she waited in the dark and the rain, shivering and shaking and pretending that it was from the cold.

_There is no shame in fear._ There was shame in letting it control you. There was shame in not _acting_ to protect yourself. She would not be that person ever again.

" _My liefde_?" _Tante_ Alba nudged.

"Of course, _Tante._ "

"He still haunts you."

Erza felt Mira's eyes on her. She wetted her lips and tried for confidence. "That was a long time ago."

"Time and memory bow to no one, man or woman."

She wasn't in the mood for _Tante'_ s sagacious words. "I will tell the police to leave."

_Tante_ Alba's smile was gentle. "Then I will tell you to begin work."

"Thank you."

"Don't hit our customers."

"If they need to be hit?"

The woman puckered her age-lined mouth. "Our guards are very good and our customers better. You know I will condone violence if it's needed but it won't be like before."

When she was wild and damaged and easy to vex. "I'm not that person any longer."

"You are. She just doesn't define you, not like she used to."

Erza found it difficult to argue.

* * *

"You still walk these streets like they belong to you," _Tante_ Kyouka said.

Gin filled his mouth, both sweet and sharp, mixed with lime and tonic. He swallowed and looked away from the stage where the blue-haired girl climbed down. Kyouka lifted her hand and the woman came over, her low heels tapping gently. She folded herself in beside Kyouka without needing to be asked and kissed the woman's cheek. "If you don't walk these parts like you do, you'll be rolled," Jellal told her.

She shook her head. "Not Lawmen."

That was a nice way of saying he wasn't very subtle. People caught a glimpse of him and knew about the badge he carried in his pocket. There would be no blending in, not anymore. It burned him up some. He used to take pride in being a ghost. _Tante_ Alba's best eyes. No one paid him any mind then. Anonymity was for some people, he supposed. Not him. Not anymore.

"So? What's the nature of your visit? Pleasure? We have a live show tonight. Or you could rent one of the upstairs rooms."

"I'm here on work."

Her smile could carve out hearts. "I thought."

" _Tante_ Kyouka," because she'd never let the conversation continue without the proper terms of respect. "You and your Matriarch see everything that happens in this quadrant of the city." Because while the bar was hers and the whorehouse attached to it, she answered to a higher power. Most of them did.

She was pleased with the assessment but wary of its destination. "We see many things, yes."

"I'm sure you've heard of the Cardinal."

"Is that what the media's calling that killer?" Kyouka threaded her fingers through her singer's hair. The girl drank from the _Tante_ 's glass and eyed first Jellal and then Laxus.

"Yeah, that's what they're calling him," Jellal replied. He spoke to _Tante_ Kyouka but his eyes were on the singer's wrist. There was a deep bruise there. Someone had grabbed her recently.

"Are you sure it's a man?"

Jellal said, "The victims were raped."

"Men aren't the only ones that can do such horrible things. I would have thought your association with the Prayer would have given you an open mind." Kyouka's eyes gleamed; she wasn't shy when it came to such topics. There were warning flags going off in Jellal's mind. He paid them some attention but didn't give them the reins. "Unless, of course, you found something to say otherwise?" Kyouka pressed.

Jellal kept the details of their investigation to himself; Kyouka was digging in that way she had. Seemingly helpful but executing her own agenda. _Does that mean she knows something?_ More than likely. The issue was going to be working out exactly _what_ without giving too much away.

"Because if you ask me, luring is a woman's specialty and those girls _were_ lured away, weren't they? Or were they forcibly taken from the streets?"

"Stop fishing."

She swirled one black-painted nail over her glass. "I don't know what you mean. I'm just trying to help out. Did you even think of that? A woman's kind hand to lead the lambs to the waiting Cardinal?"

"Do you or don't you know anything about this, Kyouka?" Laxus asked.

Her eyes sawed through him.

" _Tante_ ," he added.

She didn't relax. "What would information like that be worth?"

"The lives of countless women?"

"You mistake me. I'm not a bleeding heart."

Jellal asked, "What do you want?"

"Is this a safe environment?" she asked.

"You tell me," Jellal volleyed back. "We're in your establishment, surrounded by your people." Who were toting guns they weren't supposed to be toting.

"You're right. Well then. Between you and me, my Matriarch might be willing to share that information— _if_ we had it—for a very modest price."

"Which is?"

"Everything you can find on the woman Gray Fullbuster has taking care of his child while he's away at work."

"The nanny?"

"The one and only."

"You want information on a civilian?"

"She's no civilian," Kyouka said.

Jellal drank the dregs in his glass. Laxus asked, "Do you know why I call you Spider, Kyouka?"

She put her long-nailed fingers on his chest and walked them to his chin. "Because you're perverse and you hate yourself and you're _curious_ to see just how far you can push me?"

He caught her wrist and pulled her fingers away. "It's because this city is a web weaved by your Matriarch and _you_ sit in its center. Not a single foot seems to drop without your knowhow. Don't give us that bullshit that you don't know who this girl is. What do you really want?"

Kyouka laughed. "You're right, of course, I am very well connected. Many are eager to please me and my Matriarch. The problem is an honest one, however. No one knows her and no one can get a line on her. All I want from you is a little bit of backstory. Dig in the dark corners you police like so much. When you know something, my memory might be jogged as well."

Jellal's phone started shrilling. Seeing it was the office, he excused himself and took the call near the entrance of the bar. "Yeah?"

"Just got a report of another body, Detective, looks like it's your guy," said the voice on the other line.

He got the details then dragged his partner out of what was an intense conversation with their Lady Spider.

* * *

As they pulled up to the crime scene, a park in the center of the city called Oriel Grave, Laxus turned to Jellal and voiced the thing that had been plaguing him since they sat down with _Tante_ Kyouka. "What if she's right? What if there're two killers working together? One to lure and the other to kill?"

"It's possible but I think she was just trying to wheedle information from us. She wanted to know what we knew."

"Why bother?"

"To better bargain," Jellal replied. "She wants information on Gray's nanny and thought this was the best way to get it."

"Maybe we should look into it." Blue and red light strobed, cutting through the night. "And find out what Kyouka knows."

Jellal put the car in park and squared Laxus up in his sights. "I'm not that desperate."

If he wasn't now, he would be soon; Laxus could see it. Jellal didn't like cases going on this long with so many dead leads and so many dead bodies. This newest one set the nail in the coffin. Laxus was determined to drive it home. "We come at Kyouka with a name. What's she going to do with that?"

"That's the wrong question. Why does she want it in the first place and where does that singer fit in?"

"I have a theory on the singer," Laxus said.

Jellal faced the park and its growing crowd. "This should be good."

"How old's Aria now? Four?"

"Just turned," Jellal said.

"And when did Fullbuster get put on Narcotics?"

"Five—five and a half years ago."

"Yeah. That's what I thought. 'Magine this. Gray's working the Dragon case. He's asking around, he's digging but he's not having much luck. Until one day, he gets a girl in Somnium and hooks up with her—the singer, right?"

"Sure," Jellal agreed.

"Knocks her up with Aria. Offers to take care of her. We've seen it before. She agrees and has the kid but doesn't ever pull out of Dreaming Tree. Gray gets pissed and gets righteous—that's his little girl's mother after all. He starts getting vengeful and starts taking it out on the escorts. He's building himself up to the grand finale."

Jellal wasn't half as sold. "You're conjecturing."

"It's called intuition."

Jellal's fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

"You saw that girl's wrist just like I did," Laxus said. "Someone grabbed her hard."

"Yeah."

"Could have been Fullbuster."

"Could have. Could have been anyone."

"She gave him the slip and he found this girl here." He nodded to the outside.

"And where does the nanny fit into this bulletproof theory of yours?" Jellal asked without much interest.

"Guess we'd have to do some digging on her to find out."

"Or we could turn our attentions to the real killer and leave Gray and his family drama the fuck alone."

"I'm telling you, he's good for—"

"He's not," Jellal replied.

"It _fits_. I'm not playing fucking glass slipper here," he said for Jellal's benefit. "You saw the handprint on the singer's arm. Someone grabbed her and they grabbed her good, just like they grabbed Zoya Balewa, just like they grabbed this girl."

Jellal turned the car off. "We should go take a look before the crowd gets any bigger and we can't get close."

That was a polite way of telling him he was very wrong, thank you very much. He didn't want to think it either but most of the times, it was the simplest explanation that was the truth and Laxus couldn't think of what was simpler than Gray getting tangled up in the drugs and the pussy that went on in Narcotics. He'd seen it before, close to home.

Thinking there was time to beat his partner over the head with his theory _after_ they took a look at their crime scene, he followed Jellal out of the car.

Though they were in their civvies, people stared. Laxus knew Jellal would attribute it to the 'cop-walk'. It was something he'd picked up off his grandfather when he was a kid. Apparently, all of his years practicing it had paid off in some respects because now he couldn't shake it.

Some troll with a microphone and a camera tried to stop them; another with a cellphone. Laxus cleared the way, unafraid to use his bulk to get through. He stepped on some woman's toes, he shouldered some man hard enough that he staggered. He got to the core of the group and past the police line. It wasn't until he was in the perimeter that he felt his blood run cold, and it wasn't because of the woman strung up like some weird mannequin beneath the crown of a cedar tree half a kilometer away, but because Superintendent Tores looked at him from across the group, his already thin lips compressed.

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Lives in the area," Jellal murmured.

That was perfect. He felt like he was on display as he fumbled through doing his job.

* * *

There wasn't much. There never was. She was naked. When an autopsy came back, there'd be signs of sexual interference. The crown of thorns that rested on her head dug into flesh that had lost the ability to bleed at least two days ago—that was the corner's best guess. She hadn't been out here for that long but positioning took _time_ and care. Like the others, her hands were folded together. Silver nails glittered like diamonds in the lamp one of the techs had set up. If there had been makeup on her face, she was absolutely washed of it now. If the body was fresher, it'd be damp with holy water. There was an empty vial beside her, though, indicating that she'd had the same treatment.

"Is that her natural hair colour?" Jellal asked lowly to one of the techs. Laxus listened for the answer.

"It's a wig."

That wasn't surprising. There weren't many girls with cherry hair like that.

"Find anything on the body?"

"I wasn't expecting to," the tech replied. "But this time was different."

Different was never good.

"What'd you get?"

An evidence bag was handed his way. Laxus took his eyes from the body—how could he stare at a lumpy sheet for so long? It wasn't about to leap up and tell him who the killer was?—and watched the big reveal. It was a key slid through a silver chain. He knew what it was without ever being told. Jellal studied it and made to pass it to Laxus. He shook his head.

"I'll try to trace it—"

"I'll save you some trouble," Laxus said. "The lock it fits is in the garbage. It used to lead to the apartments at the Barrel."

A uniform approached. "We have an ID," he said.

Laxus could _feel_ the Super's eyes on him. He barely dared to ask, "Who is it?"

"Lucy Heartfilia."

"Nope." Laxus shook his head.

"Detective—"

"Check again," he barked.

The man rushed to obey.

"He's not wrong," Jellal said. "This is Lucy Heartfilia. I met her at a charity ball last year. I just didn't recognize her with the wig."

"Doesn't fit," Laxus said.

"Whether it fits or _not_ this is what we have."

"She's not a fucking escort."

Jellal donned his contemplative face. "But she was consorting with one."

"Let me guess. Erza Scarlet."

"I saw Lucy's name on the list from the Barrel. This isn't a typical kill because it wasn't meant to be. The crown of thorns, Lucy Heartfilia dressed like Erza."

"Guess we know who our killer's eyes are set on," Laxus said.

"Who found her?" Jellal asked one of the uniforms over the sound of hushed voices. Despite the fact that there was a perimeter set up and a blanket draped over the body, people pushed at its edges, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl.

"Rahkeid Dragneel," the man responded. "He's waiting just over there." He pointed to a tall cedar not so far away. Sure enough, Rahkeid stood there in all of his creepy glory with that fucked up tattoo and his holier-than-thou gentle smile. Dude was fucked.

"Thanks." Laxus turned from the man and looked at Jellal. "Can't we just go arrest him?"

To his surprise, Jellal wavered. Laxus expected him to put up more of a fight than that. Where was his ' _we don't do shoddy work'_ mantra and his ' _we're not convicting anyone innocent just because they have a tattoo and use escorts_ ' crap?

"Hey." Laxus nudged him.

Jellal shook himself. "We'll talk to him."

Not that he had very much to say. Before they were done, Rahkeid's uncle took up residence at the edge of the perimeter, they were out of questions and the night was getting long.

* * *

Had he ever been more tired? Laxus thought _not_ as he slumped in Jellal's passenger seat and watched the world whirl past. His partner stayed on the road but he was weaving.

"Don't kill us."

Jellal reached around in the glovebox and snatched out a container of caffeine pills. His driving got worse as he tried to multitask. Laxus took it off him and knocked one out.

"These are shit for you."

Jellal held out his hand in reply. Laxus dropped one into his palm and took one for himself. The night wasn't over yet.

_Be Frank's_ parking lot was empty save for three vehicles. One pickup, a rusty looking Sunfire, and Laxus' Plymouth. It was past last call and even the most hardened alcoholic had found somewhere else to be. Jellal pulled the Charger up behind Laxus' car and teased it into park. In the glow from the dash, Laxus watched him scrub his face, working some life back into his body.

"You're going to the Prayer."

Jellal just looked at him; his silence was confirmation.

"You should have backup."

"She won't let you in."

Whatever knee-jerk protest Laxus had been building fizzled. "Keep your phone on you."

"I'm not the one that ignores calls."

"Yeah." Hopefully, he wouldn't be making a habit out of it. "Watch yourself." He didn't trust anyone, not after Spider put it in his head that a woman might have been involved.

"You, too." Like Jellal knew what he was thinking of doing.

Laxus got out of the car. The slamming door echoed loudly off _Be Frank's_ stained exterior. Overhead, the moon was waning. Dawn would be here sooner than not. He still had a few hours, though, enough time to get to the office and do a bit of digging, and then pay a 'social' call if he got what he was looking for.

* * *

Police work never stopped. Though the halls were significantly emptier, there was a woman sitting at dispatch sending out a unit, there were cops with their heads in paperwork or their computers, making reports, following up on things. The station wasn't empty, no, but it was _quieter._

Laxus kept his eyes forward and walked with purpose to Narcotics. He used to think he wanted in on it. Gramps had looked him square in the eye when he told him that and said 'Don't choose your father's path.' That was damn sobering. So he gunned for Homicide and looked back very rarely. It did kind of burn him up that Fullbuster had an office. It was because of that office, though, that he felt confident that he was going to find what he was looking for.

No one bothered him as he slipped around the corner and ducked into the office adorned not with family stuff, save for one picture of Aria Gray had stuck with masking tape to his computer, but achievements. Diplomas, certifications, a picture of him with Commissioner Gryder taken his second year on the job when he busted an underground drug ring.

Laxus didn't let his accolades deter him. Even good people could turn sour.

He'd just dropped himself into Gray's leather computer chair when a body filled the doorway.

"Dreyar."

Laxus' pulse quickened. "Super."

Tores stepped into the office, still dressed in civilian attire. It was damn strange not to see him in his expensive suits, trimmed and brushed and polished. "Did you get a desk change I wasn't aware of?"

Laxus never thought he was one to sweat under pressure but his palms were damp now. "Ha. Gray's just giving us a hand with the case. Those girls were found with coke in their system. We're trying to find a way to tie it all back to Black Dragon's stuff." Sweat or not, the lie came out fluidly. "He said he had a file in here on him so I knew who I was looking for."

"You think your killer is Black Dragon?"

"Anything's possible. Even if he's not, if he saw all these girls before they died, he might be able to tell me if there was someone with them," Laxus said.

He got the nod of approval he wasn't expecting. "Good work."

Not yet it wasn't. "We're getting closer." What a load of bullshit that was. Believing was half the battle.

"The lab will turn something up on this Heartfilia girl. I have a feeling," Tores said lastly, reading him like a book.

"Yes, Sir." Their killer couldn't be perfect. He would slip and they would get something solid.

Tores left. Laxus went back to digging. He didn't even have to go too far. Gray wasn't the sneakiest he'd had to dig around on. He found her file taped beneath the desk and discovered that Kyouka was right. The nanny was no civilian.

He made a stop at his locker lastly and donned his body armour. With any luck, he wouldn't need it, but he didn't want to be careless. Angel made it clear exactly what she wanted to do to him.

* * *

There was a mask in his trunk hidden in the compartment with his spare tire. Jellal pulled it out. Simple, that was the best way to describe it. Shining black composite, half-faced. It covered his tattoo, his most prominent feature, that was the most important thing. _Tante_ Alba would know him before he walked his way to the stairs but with any luck, no outsider would.

'Late' didn't apply in the Prayer. Lights spilled through stained glass windows and beneath the ancient doors. Ghosts of laughter chimed, chasing pleasured sighs. It was a sound that was familiar. Sometimes, he missed the simplicity that was his life before police academy. He toed the line between law and lawlessness, never doing anything expressly illegal but certainly enabling such activities. It was the first place he'd ever belonged; it was a place he _used_ to think he'd always belong, but as he approached the doors, doing his best to shirk his tells, he knew that he was a cop through and through. It couldn't be helped. These things weren't bred-in-the-bone but once they were learned, they couldn't be _unlearned._

His foot hit the first puckered concrete step; the doors cracked open for him, spilling out light and music and sin.

* * *

Laxus took his Plymouth all the way to Somnium's _overflowing_ cracked concrete driveway. Business for Kyouka and thusly her Matriarch was booming. The club wasn't the biggest money maker for the Spider and her Lady but it certainly brought in good coin.

He locked the doors and approached the entrance briskly. There were eyes on him. Sweat beaded his brow. It was fucking _hot_ in his undershirt and his vest and the T-shirt he'd tried to use to mask the lines of the armour. His jacket did a better job thrown over his shoulders. He wore it even when he wanted to strip down. No one said anything about being comfortable.

There was no one waiting at the doors to hinder his progress this time. Laxus took one last look at the early morning sky just in case he didn't get another chance. It looked like someone had cracked open a black pen, spilled its ink on the horizon and then shone a very weak light upon it. Blues glittered, purples ate the light.

He pushed open the door. Inside was transformed. All of the blue lights were on now. A local band was on stage, the woman out front singing in a rough and sultry voice. She was doing her best _Jessica Rabbit_ impression with her tight red dress and stiletto heels. Her hair was just as red as Erza Scarlet's. Despite its unusualness, it seemed the colour was following the investigation.

Where other bars had closed down for the night, Somnium seemed to be in full-swing still. Almost every table was occupied by men and women with drinks before them. Cigarette smoke filled the air. Upstairs on the second level, a man was pushed roughly against the bannister and given the kind of kiss romantics were envious of. Laxus didn't wish to trade places; you could buy almost anything at Somnium. Even love for a night. Who the fuck wanted it, though?

He made it all the way to the bar and had a whisky in hand before the Spider sat down beside him. Her fingers left cold trails as she skimmed them over his neck.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon."

Laxus leaned out of her touch. "I want to catch this guy."

"The whole city wants you to, too." She smiled an insincere smile. "Did you get what I asked for?"

"More or less."

"More or less…?"

"I have a name and her affiliation. That's all I have and that's all you're getting."

"That's all I asked for."

"Good. Before we make our transaction, I have to know what I'm buying. Do you know who the Cardinal is?"

"No," she said bluntly.

That made things easier. "Then in return, I want to know if Gray Fullbuster grabbed that singer of yours and I want to talk to Black Dragon."

Her lips came together. "You're a greedy man, Detective Dreyar."

"Do we have a deal or not?"

She didn't even have to think twice. "Not."

" _Tante—_ "

"You may choose one or the other. The information on Gray Fullbuster or an audience with Black Dragon."

How could he choose? "I need both."

"Everyone needs something. If you want to rework our deal, I'll do it for a modest price. My Matriarch wants the nanny gone and she wants Aria here."

There were lots of things he wanted to say to her, threats, mostly. He said none because he wasn't in the business of burning bridges. "You know I won't do that."

"Even if he's your killer?"

"Even if."

"Then choose, Detective."

"Fullbuster," he said finally. "Tell me about him."

Kyouka's smile was almost… relieved, if he had to put a term to it. "The singer is the mother of his child. That is his handprint on her wrist. He was roughed up here a few nights ago after he was expressly told to stay away."

"He was trying to take her and string her up like those other girls." Adrenaline was moving through his veins. He felt suddenly awake and alert.

Kyouka tapped her nails on the countertop. "That's all I have for you, Detective. I think your time here is just about through. Tell me about the nanny."

That couldn't be it. "Wait. Can I talk to her? The singer?"

"No."

"Kyouka—"

"It's _Tante_ , Detective." Her voice was a whip. "And no means no. She doesn't want to talk about Gray Fullbuster. _Tell me about the nanny_ or you'll get the same treatment Detective Fullbuster did."

Laxus sighed. "Name's Mulan. She's an illegal immigrant that has a military history. She's a gun for hire."

"Mulan? Is that a first name or a last name?"

Laxus stood. "I'd be hard-pressed to say it's a real name at all."

"Detective."

He tossed back his drink without meeting her gaze. Playing the Spider was a dangerous game. He felt like his balls were resting beneath a hammer. It was uncomfortable. "That's all I know. Maybe if you wanted to rework the deal—"

"Do you think this is funny?"

"Do I look like a guy that tells many jokes?" He set his glass down. "It's been a pleasure."

Laxus didn't breathe again until he was surrounded by the cold early morning air. It was still dark and with the absence of any streetlamps in Somnium's parking lot, he used the predawn light to guide his footsteps. He still got acquainted with a puddle on the way to his car. Dirty water splashed into his boot and soaked his sock. He cussed in a way that would have made his grandfather proud.

At his car, he tugged out his keys and used the light of his phone to make sure he didn't scratch the paint. Boots cracked over the ground behind him. The steps were sure and fast. The click of a hammer engaging was unmistakable. Laxus tensed and reached for the gun in his shoulder holster. His fingers were on the grip and he was turning when his company decided to pull their trigger.

Getting shot hurt like a sonofabitch. It was a pain he'd experienced twice in his life. Once because his old man was on a bender and seeing monsters—that earned him a bullet in the shoulder—and once because some lowlife drug dealer had less-than-terrible aim and got him in the leg. It hurt _less_ with a bulletproof vest on. It still knocked the breath out of him. it still brought him to his knees. The second shot that hit got him higher up and made his ribs ache.

He kept his grip on his pistol. By the time he could figure out _how_ to turn, the gunman found someplace else to be. A pickup fishtailed out of Somnium's parking lot.

Laxus leaned against his car and gasped like a fish out of water until he could get his phone out.


	9. Chapter 9

Had a jacket ever felt so constricting? It grabbed his shoulders and made walking difficult. Had his feet ever felt clumsier moving over _Tante_ Alba's floors? His heels couldn't seem to find rhythm. Perfumes and incense and leather had certainly never smelled so strongly.

Jellal focused ahead. A man in a mask similar to his own knelt on the altar with his hands clasped together in prayer. A woman circled him, a vial of water in her hand that she doused over his shoulders. Was it blessed? Jellal thought likely. He wondered if he stared at their killer's accomplice—if that was in fact how the Cardinal was luring his victims away. He wondered if he was just seeing ghosts where he dared to look.

Moans chased him over the shining floors, snapping at his heels. There was pleasure, there was pain, there was obvious inebriation. Everyone used when they came to the Prayer.

A swatch of orange and yellow caught his eye. He lifted his gaze to the second floor and saw _Tante_ Alba leaning against the bannister, hands folded at her wrists. She looked down upon her establishment, Asaase Afua once more. Her dark eyes, twin onyx gems, found him. Her smile was painted gold. She waved him on with her bejeweled fingers, drawing him up, up, up.

Climbing the stairs, Jellal didn't leave the hot sighs behind; the Prayer was built on such indecent praise. It was in the walls, in the floors, in the very air. Stairs spiraled beneath his feet, reeling him in like a fish on a line. Stepping onto the top floor, _Tante_ waited for him. She held out her dark-skinned hand. Jellal took it. She kissed his cheek and then, without a word, started walking past familiar looking doors. There was no stopping at her office like he thought. No, _Tante_ Alba, who'd cobbled her life together with vice and sin, led Jellal to the embodiment of the most ashamed moment in his life and deposited him within her walls.

Doors closed.

If sin was a colour it would be scarlet, for it lived and breathed in every eyelet, every thread that held the ropes of her corset together. Sin: it clung to her skin, satin shining in weak light. There was a matching robe that hung on her shoulders, open. She lifted her kohled eyes. Mask or no mask, she knew him. Surprise danced across her face. It was gone faster than a summer's storm. She rose on stilettoed heels and came to him. Once, she circled. Twice. On the second pass, she let her fingers brush over his spine.

_Cherry champagne; her mouth tasted like it._ The memory hit him hard. Jasmine filled his nose. Jellal struggled to think of his purpose here. Without a word between them, this was a different world, one that existed not in a reality where he hunted a killer and came to the Prayer with work (sort of) on his mind.

No. In this world, there was only their secret and them.

And the hands slipping between his arms and his ribs to come to rest against his chest. The nails were painted black and tipped in gold. They slid between his pectorals and dropped to rub the front of his pants. While Jellal thought of protests, he met Erza's eyes and watched her discard her robe. The corset she wore lifted her breasts and forced them to almost spill out.

The hands at his waist were busy. His pants came open. Jellal took in a perfume-laced breath and turned, looking into Mirajane's mischievous blue eyes. She, too, saw through the mask. Her mouth split into a smile. "Hello, Detective. Welcome to the Prayer."

Jellal had to clear his throat to make his words come. "Miss Strauss." She came forward; he backed up and Erza was there. She was quick, picking up where Mira left off, taking his jacket and tugging it down, much more willing _now_ to get him undressed than that first time they were together. He thought of the gun strapped to his ankle ( _I'm ready_ ). He thought of targets and laughter and champagne that soaked a uniform he'd long ago hung up. He thought of hard floors and high heels and calves and a tongue that took away every drop of alcohol that spilled on his skin.

His jacket came off. Erza began on his shirt, slipping beneath the fabric and feeling his skin. Jellal's heart quickened. Despite his dark business here, he was very slow in putting a stop to the attention. His memory was clouded in tequila and then in the panic that had plagued him a lifetime ago. This was very different. She lifted his shirt and crouched, using her tongue to wet the skin just above the loose waist of his pants.

Mira licked her finger and dipped it in a small black porcelain container that sat on the nightstand beside the door. It came out white. She approached, hand lifted, and touched his lip. It took Jellal a moment to realize what she was doing. He caught her wrist and eased her hand away.

"I don't—I'm not here for this." Some of the powder clung to Jellal's lip, making it go numb. He licked it off unthinkingly. It wasn't enough to get him high; it was enough to remember the taste, though.

"I'm told that everyone that comes to the Prayer comes for this." And yet, she took her finger away and popped it into her own mouth, licking off the remainder of the drug.

Erza didn't seem to hear his admission; her hands moved inside his pants and went seeking. Jellal's phone buzzed as a call came through. He closed his eyes and imagined ignoring it. He imagined reliving one of the best and worst nights of his life.

The phone buzzed again.

Maybe Erza _did_ hear him say he was here for work. Her first words were, "If you're working then should you get that?"

_Absolutely._ He pushed her hands aside and stepped away from both girls. He felt like he'd been had all over again as he held up his pants and pulled out his phone. He put his back against the wall and watched Erza, still kneeling on the floor, invite Mira in.

_Work. You're here for work, you fucking idiot._ He answered his phone. "Yeah."

Laxus was short and to the point. "Someone shot me."

That was the dose of reality he needed. "What?"

"I was wearing my vest but _what the fuck_."

He turned his eyes from Erza pushing her partner's panties aside and did up his pants, the erection that had been running the show quickly disappearing. "Who?"

"Dunno. Happened in Somnium's parking lot. They took off in a truck."

He had a feeling Laxus was heading back there. "Where are you now?"

"Here still. Captain's here burning my ass. She's making me go to the hospital, too, and get looked at."

Jellal blew out all the air from his lungs. "Was it worth it?"

"Looks like Fullbuster's our guy."

"You're sure?"

"No, I'm not fucking sure. I said it _looks like_. Captain's been asking why I'm here. I have to tell her something and soon, she's getting sick of me dancing around my answers."

"Yeah," Jellal said. Seemed like they couldn't avoid it now. "I'll be there in a few."

"Good. I was getting tired of being the only one roasting here."

"What have you told her?"

"So far? Nothing."

Which was likely why she was so furious. "Alright. I'll be there soon."

Laxus hung up without saying goodbye. Jellal stuffed his phone in his pocket again and faced the two girls.

"Duty calls?" Mira asked. She was shamelessly bare from the waist up. Erza stood. her hair, plaited just moments ago, was loose against her shoulders.

_It would feel like silk._

Jellal cleared his throat. "I came to talk to you, Erza. Not—" He waved to them vaguely.

Erza's mouth—already in a wary press—flattened more. "Why?"

"We found one of your clients tonight. A woman named Lucy Heartfilia—"

Erza was shaking her head before he ever finished. "No."

"I'm sorry. It looks like she was targeted by the Cardinal. And... We think she was meant to look like you."

As he spoke, Mira grabbed the robe he hadn't seen her in and pulled it over her body. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

Erza didn't cry or scream or suck in air and titter. She turned emotionless. "Like me?"

"She was wearing a wig the same colour as your hair. We have a suspect, though, and it's looking good. Stay safe until it can be confirmed. I'll dispatch another protection detail—"

" _Tante_ Alba won't allow for it," Erza said hollowly.

"I'll explain the situation—"

"She won't allow for it," Erza repeated. She took in a breath and said more assuredly. "It's fine. I'll be safe here."

Maybe, maybe not. If she refused, though, then that was that.

He picked up his jacket, eager to distance himself from the Prayer. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

The parking lot was _crawling_ with cops. A technician tugged out bullets from the vest Laxus had been wearing while Captain Milkovich burned holes through him using only her eyes. Laxus again wondered if _Spider_ wouldn't be a more appropriate nickname for her. It seemed wasted on Kyouka when Ultear had a much better face for it.

"You should start talking."

He had to say _something._ "Send IA to pick up Gray Fullbuster and I'll give you everything I know."

"Gray Fullbuster? Why?"

Laxus adjusted his weight from foot to foot; his Plymouth rolled forward just a few inches before settling back again. The breaks croaked. "I'd like to wait until we're in private if it's all the same."

"It's _not_ ," Ultear hissed. She looked out of place in the muddy parking lot in her pointed high heels and her pencil skirt. "Are you saying he shot you?"

"I'm saying that Internal Affairs needs to start asking him questions about the Cardinal case."

"This is outrageous." That was _not_ the reaction Laxus had been expecting. "Where was your partner?"

Despite Ultear's uncanny ability to make his balls retract, Laxus wasn't so interested in selling Jellal out. "Does that matter?" he stalled.

"Detective Dreyar," she said between clenched teeth. "It matters."

Laxus heard Jellal before he saw him. "I was telling Erza Scarlet that her life might be in danger."

Ultear turned and picked him out of the crowd. Her neck was blushed and her eyes were hard. "While your partner came to the wrong side of town and got himself shot up?"

Usually, Jellal had a story for every occasion. In the early morning light, Laxus watched his partner falter for the very first time and knew that nothing good was going to come of it. Ultear could _smell_ weakness.

"Talk, Fernandez."

"In private?" he nudged.

Ultear snorted air out of her nose like a bull. "Get to the hospital, Dreyar. Get checked out. Unless you're dying, be in my office by ten. That goes for you, too, Jellal. We'll talk about…" She waved vaguely. "This then."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She made her way to another group of cops, cursing beneath her breath.

"I'll drive?" Jellal offered.

Laxus lifted himself from the trunk of his car and followed his partner to his Charger. "I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm fine."

"Policy," Jellal said.

"Yeah, yeah." He dropped himself into the front seat when he could and winced; his back was _sore_. Vest or no vest, the bruises left behind by those two bullets were going to leave their mark for some time. Laxus put his head back against the headrest. "I'm starving."

Jellal got in and closed the door. "There's chocolate in the glovebox."

"Chocolate. Are you a savage? It's fucking seven in the morning, man."

"Take it or not." Jellal started his car.

Laxus took it. Thankfully, it was still cold enough that the chocolate hadn't melted. The first bite was the worst not because his biological clock had any semblance of exactly what time it was—he hadn't seen his bed in many hours—but because it was ingrained in his head that morning was for savory, not sweet. His reluctance quickly disappeared. He really was _starving._

"What happened?"

Around a sweet mouthful, Laxus said, "I found the information on the nanny taped up under Gray's desk. Like Kyouka said, she was no civilian. Her name's Bisca Mulan, she's an illegal immigrant, that's why Kyouka couldn't find anything on her. And she's ex-military."

Jellal asked the question that had been plaguing Laxus for hours. "Why does Gray need an ex-military nanny to watch Aria?"

"The only thing I can think is that Gray's afraid work's going to follow him home." He took another bite.

Jellal eased the Charger out onto the road. "What'd you tell Kyouka?"

"Just that. Ex-military. Her last name."

Jellal tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Why does she care?"

"Information is her bread and butter." As soon as he said it aloud, Laxus knew that was true. Gray had been hunting Somnium and Black Dragon for years. It was good to know everything you could about your enemies.

"Yeah."

"Not only that, but she and that singer seem to be close. When I asked, she confirmed the chick's Gray's MIA girlfriend. Kyouka gave me reason to think that she wants Aria there with her."

"So…" Jellal said thoughtfully.

"So…" Laxus launched into his theory again. "Gray and this singer hook up like I said and have some fun. Gray thinks he's getting in close to Dragon, the girl thinks she's in love. They get sloppy and she gets knocked up. Gray wants to do the right thing and keep the kid and the girl. The girl wants her life to be as it was. She ditches Aria with Gray and goes back to Kyouka. Some time passes, she starts to feel some regret over leaving the kid and wants her back. When she tries, Gray gets pissed off and righteous."

"And then the killings begin."

"You got it." He lifted his back off the seat when they went over a bump. It still jarred him badly enough that for a moment, he couldn't breathe it hurt so bad. "Kyouka says Gray came into Somnium and got rough with his girl."

"Wonder if she'll come in and testify."

Laxus laughed at the thought of seeing Spider in their interrogation room _willingly_. The motion made his ribs hurt. "In a couple hours, it's not going to be our problem."

Jellal looked like he swallowed something sour.

"What?"

"I still don't like it."

"Fuck off you don't like it. We're going to get ballistics back, they're going to match Gray's gun and the rest is _history._ "

"Do you think if he shot you he'd be stupid enough to use is police issued gun?" Jellal said, bursting Laxus' bubble. He didn't let it deter him for long.

"Then IA's going to search his house and come up with the gun he _did_ use.

"Why target Erza?"

"He's fucked?"

Jellal got thoughtful. "Did you see the truck when it pulled away?"

"Not really."

"I don't think he's our guy and when the Captain asks us, I'm going to tell her that," Jellal said after a long bout of silence. "I'm going to ask her to keep us on the case."

Laxus chewed the inside of his cheek, annoyed. "I don't know if she'd do that even if our primary suspect _wasn't_ one of her best Narcotic's detectives." Not after that shit in Somnium.

* * *

Tylenol Four dulled the pain. Water wetted his mouth when he couldn't work any saliva into it. He'd taken statements before and had even given them a time or two whenever his deadbeat dad decided to crawl out of the gutter and meander his way home. (That had stopped when Laxus turned twenty; Ivan had fallen off the face of the earth. He _assumed_ that meant that his father overdosed in some shooting gallery and became rat food. Was he sad? Absolutely not.) Despite his familiarity with the song and dance, this statement took longer than most. When he was done, he was discharged from the hospital with a warning to take it easy and a prescription for _more_ Tylenol Four. He filled it at the pharmacy there and promptly chewed up a pill. Jellal drove him to his car. He granny-drove it all the way back to the station and sat in on one of the most unpleasant conversations of his life.

Despite the fact that she told him he would _not_ be investigating his own shooting, Ultear Milkovich was _not_ receptive to the idea that Gray was the Cardinal.

"This evidence is circumstantial at best."

"Did you _hear_ the part about him grabbing that girl and roughing her up?"

"Tell her to come in and make a statement, otherwise I'm not wasting resources and pulling Gray out of Narcotics. He's been cooperative. He's answered all of IA's questions, he's handed over his service weapon and all of his personal ones, too. IA is satisfied, and so am I. There is _nothing_ about this that makes me think that he's the Cardinal."

"Captain," Laxus started.

She bowled right over him. "Gray Fullbuster isn't the man you're looking for."

"Okay, did you hear—"

" _There's nothing wrong with my hearing_ ," she barked.

"He doesn't have an alibi for March second," Jellal said _despite_ his assurances that he wouldn't speak against Gray. Laxus gave him a thankful look that he ignored. "And given that nanny, it's obvious that he's paranoid. Meredy said—"

"I know what Meredy said about your killer. Gray has that nanny because I suggested it and his alibi is me."

"You?" Laxus spat.

"Me. As I confirmed with IA after they questioned him."

Jellal was less flabbergasted. "You knew about the singer?"

Her only response was, "Go get fitted for a new vest, Detective Dreyar, and then you two need to put your efforts toward something _productive_. While you're in here accusing an honest man, your killer is still on the lam."

"Captain—"

She stood. "Get out and keep your mouth _shut_ about this or give me your badge right now, both of you."

Laxus thought he knew when to pick a fight and when to walk away. And yet, he opened his mouth to fight. Jellal spoke over him. "Yes, Ma'am." He stood and grabbed Laxus' bicep, forcing him up, too. Laxus was still trying to find something that would make Ultear as sure as he was of Gray's guilt. He was at the door and he still didn't have anything.

Before they could exit, Ultear said, "The next time you two fuck up, you're off the case. This was embarrassing."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jellal said again. Laxus didn't know if he was sincere or not.

In the hallway, he kept his steps long to keep up with his partner. "I can't fucking believe—"

"That we're still on the case? That we still have a job? Stop questioning it and start helping me figure out how to catch the Cardinal."

"I still think Narcotics prince there is our guy."

"Captain's speaking up for him."

"You think she's tossing him?"

"I think she's doing _something_ with him late at night," Jellal replied drily. "I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks."

Laxus curled his lip. "Do you think that's why he has an office?"

"No."

"Because if that's all it takes—" he trailed off. Ultear was the kind of woman that ate men alive.

"Yeah," Jellal said, reading him clearly. "Not worth it."

The hallway was filled by Superintendent Tores. "Alright, Dreyar?"

The tips of his ears felt hot. "Yes, Sir. Just some bruising."

"They cleared you for duty again so soon?"

With some bullying. His smile was limp. "Yes, Sir."

"Good to hear. These bullets that are going through ballistics, I think they might be that break we were talking about," the man said on his way by.

Laxus felt like a kiss-ass when he said, "Hope you're right, Sir."

"If not, you'll find something else." And then Tores was gone, his half-assed pep talk hanging in the air.

Feeling somehow more pressed than before, Laxus said, "We need to talk to Black Dragon. If he or one of his people _have_ been dealing to the Cardinal and those girls, he might be able to point us in the right direction."

" _Tante_ Alba may be able to help us with that," Jellal hedged.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe. It's worth a try. I was going to go tell Erza that our guy's still at large. I'll talk to _Tante_ Alba while I'm there."

"A phone call would do," Laxus grumbled.

Jellal didn't even try to pretend. "I want to see her."

"Which one?"

Jellal's smile was all blades. He diverged and headed toward the back of the building. "Stay out of the Captain's line of fire."

Grumbling, Laxus made for the front exit. As he started on the stairs, taking them two at a time, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He tugged it out and saw that it was Porlyusica. He was _not_ in the mood to deal with her and Gramps' drama. It went to voicemail and then promptly started ringing again. He sighed and answered.

"What's up, Porlyusica?"

"Laxus. Your foolish grandfather went wandering around looking for you last night when you didn't come home."

Laxus' steps slowed. "What?"

"He was gone for _hours_ walking around town. He called me an hour ago because he was lost. I picked him up and brought him to the hospital. He's—"

Laxus, a million things going through his mind (dead, stabbed, got pneumonia, been mugged) didn't let her finish. "I'll be there soon." He hung up and ran the rest of the way to his car, barely dodging people milling around the building.

"Where's the fire?" someone called after him. The outer door closing behind him demolished any chance Laxus had of replying, not that it was high on his priority list.

* * *

The hospital was as full now as it had been five hours ago. It smelled, even in the entrance, like pulpy food, floor cleaner, and the sick. There was perpetual bile in the air, waste, and hand sanitizer. That wasn't the end of the terribleness. There was also a _hush_ that made his skin crawl with unease. Hospitals birthed pregnant pauses; in those hollows, sadness lived, clinging to the walls the way joy was never built to.

Laxus fucking hated it.

The woman behind the plexiglass looked at his dirty knees, his unkempt hair and the bags under his eyes. He felt obligated to tell her he'd been up all night trying—futilely—to catch a killer. He thought the way she looked at him now, like he was manic, would probably not improve. He smiled and told her his grandfather's name. He said please and thank you like he _was patient_. He got the room number and then he didn't look back.

He heard his grandfather before he saw him. Relief or annoyance? How could Laxus choose which to feel? He came into the room and saw the old man hooked up with an IV in his arm and knew relief took shotgun.

Porlyusica stood from a chair in the corner. "You sped here."

"You made it sound like an emergency," he said, looking at his less-than-half-dead grandfather. (Really, the old man looked damn spry, pink-cheeked and ornery as he glared at Laxus and then turned his eyes out to the bright world outside.)

"I'm _fine,_ " Makarov grumbled.

Porlyusica paid him no mind, focusing her attention on Laxus. " _If you listened instead of hanging up_ , you would have heard me say that he was dehydrated and cold but otherwise _fine_."

"Maybe lead with that next time," Laxus said. It wasn't like his grandfather was young anymore.

"I think I'm done here." Makarov started to rise.

Porlyusica pushed him back with a solid hand on his shoulder. "You need to stay until the nurses say you can go."

"Ridiculous."

"Listen to her, old man, or you're not going to be drawing any more old lady titties."

" _Laxus_ ," Porlyusica scolded. Makarov went red.

"You're a horrible grandson."

He'd been called worse. "Did you tell them about his heart medication?"

"Mind your own business with that bull—"

Porlyusica talked over Makarov. "I told the nurses."

Laxus breathed out. "If you're alright, I'm going to head out. It's been a long day."

Momentarily distracted from his warpath, Makarov looked at Laxus from beneath one bushy grey brow. "What happened to you?"

Laxus waved him off. "Nothing."

He didn't even have to know the details; he saw right through Laxus. Maybe it was in the way he favoured his left side. Or in the way he moved so damn stiffly. "You're being careless, boy."

"I'm alright."

"Did you try to bust someone's head that didn't want busting?"

"I said I'm fine," Laxus repeated.

"Next time, you should let the evidence do the talking."

Hilarious coming from him. Police work had been a lot different when Makarov Dreyar was on the force. Laxus didn't fight with him. He thought instead about how there was no fucking evidence. At least none that wasn't specifically left for them to find. He pointed at the old man and made sure that he had his attention so there wasn't any risk of misunderstanding. "Don't chase me through the streets when I don't come home. Pick up the fucking phone. You're just going to get yourself mugged."

His grandfather had mastered the art of looking both somehow insulted and wounded. He turned his eyes back to the window. Laxus pushed his hair back from his forehead.

"I'll bring him home when he's released," Porlyusica said in a voice gentler than Laxus had ever heard her use before.

"Thanks."

On his way out, his phone sang. A nurse gave him a dirty look. He murmured an apology and read the text in the elevator. The techs had found a thread of expensive fabric in Lucy Heartfilia's crown of thorns. What the hell did it mean, though? It could have been hers, it could have been her father's. It could have been their killer's. Grudgingly, he admitted that if it was the killer's, Meredy's profile lined up. Rich, privileged, thinking he was above the law.

The elevator stopped and opened two floors from the ground and a woman stepped in. It took Laxus a moment to recognize Mirajane Strauss with her hair covered by a purple scarf. It took her longer to recognize him because her eyes were fixed on the ground.

"Ground floor, Miss Strauss?" Laxus asked, hand hovering over the buttons.

She startled then laughed. "Oh. Detective. You scared me." The doors slid closed on the Psychiatric ward. She cleared her throat. "Ground level, yes."

Laxus let the elevator do its thing without interrupting; they were going to the same place.

* * *

Jellal didn't bother hiding his face this time as he approached the Prayer. Daylight revealed too many secrets anyway. Like always, as he mounted the steps, the doors were opened by two burly men, inviting him inside. He wasn't foolish enough to believe he'd always have an invitation, _Tante_ Alba had been pretty clear how she felt the other night when he plagued her with investigation questions, but for now, the Prayer was a place where he could enter and exit as he pleased.

Inside, the bottom floor was empty save for the Matriarch. She sat on the altar, hands clasped around a crown of thorns. She twisted it thoughtfully. Seeing it, Jellal's heart crashed. "I hope you're not about to tell me that's evidence."

_Tante_ Alba lifted eyes as black as jet. "This belonged to the church for many years, since I first opened the doors of this establishment." Jellal relaxed some. _Tante_ Alba unfolded herself from her seat and came to him. "You come, you ask questions I cannot answer, you come back and you do not pay. Why do you return again?"

"I wasn't here for that last night," Jellal said, "Otherwise, I would have settled up."

Her eyes got sharp. "I know the look and I know how you lust after that girl, even after so many years."

His palms were sweaty. He rubbed them on his pants and swung the conversation back into the realms of professional. "I need your help."

"If it's with your investigation, I told you, I cannot help. I know nothing."

"All I need from you is for you to ask Black Dragon if he will meet with us."

She searched his eyes. "He will not meet."

"You haven't asked."

"I don't need to. I know a serpent and I know he will _not_ meet."

Jellal took her hands and pressed them between his own. Her skin was warm and soft and aged, though it did not betray her, the lines she wore small and thin and gentle for a woman of her years. He kissed the tops of her fingers. "Please, _Tante_."

The hardness she'd been building in her eyes crumbled. Whatever had spurned her to take pity on him all those years before was back. "You're a foolish man. This will get you killed."

"It's my job."

"And I am a foolish woman for sending you down this path. Will you not return to the Prayer?"

How many times would she ask? Until she was breathing her last, maybe. How many times would he consider her offer? Maybe the same. "You know I can't do that."

"I know you won't," she replied. "I'm meeting the lizard today. I will ask him if he will speak with you but I will not beg."

"Thank you." He released her hands and made for the coiled spiral of stairs. _Tante_ Alba didn't ask what he was doing; she knew him all too well. He couldn't help but try to catch another espy of sin.


	10. Chapter 10

It felt like it took an abnormally long time to travel two floors but before Laxus could fill the silence with awkward conversation, the elevator dinged, depositing them on the ground floor. He let Mira exit first and watched her without regard—until an older woman caught him staring and gave him the look he'd been known to give his grandfather when the old man was being less than courtly. He lifted his eyes from Mira's blue-jeaned behind and fixated on the exit instead. She looked back over her shoulder, glossed mouth quirked.

"Where are you going, Detective Dreyar?"

"Home," he replied.

"And where's home?"

"Just off Tricard."

"You're not going very far from me. Maybe you could drive me?"

"Like I drove you last time?" he wondered bluntly.

Mira, smile sharp, dodged through a group of people standing in line at a sandwich shop near the front of the building. "If that's what you want."

"It's what _you_ want, isn't it?" He didn't know how he felt about being used for his money.

"I'll admit, I think we could have done things better last time," she teased.

Laxus tugged his coat down further. Mira wrapped her arm through his, glowing. "You don't have to decide immediately. You could think about it while you drive to the Prayer." She said it loudly enough that a few eyes slid their way.

Laxus withstood the gaze of a nun in the crowded entryway without squirming. Bully for him. After all, it wasn't _his_ problem if she disapproved of Mirajane's profession. He did untangle their arms, however, and say, "My Captain isn't very happy with me right now."

"I thought I told you I could keep a secret?" Mira pushed open the large glass door and held it for him. The outside air was surprisingly warm. Birds sang from bulging lilac buds. It would be weeks before the leaves made an appearance but that time was fast approaching.

"It's me I'm worried about," he griped.

"You're not working," she said. "I don't know what it matters."

It mattered. But, it wasn't like anyone was going to _know_ if he just shut up. _Why are you justifying this?_ She was going to bankrupt him. _Once more isn't going to hurt anyone._ Maybe he was a sucker. Maybe he just had a shitty fucking day and wanted to relax. "The Prayer?"

"I was thinking somewhere a little more intimate." She eyed the Plymouth across the parking lot.

"It's the middle of the day."

"So what?"

"People will _see_."

"Shy?"

"You said you could be _discrete_ ," Laxus hissed. With every step he took, this was seeming more and more like a bad idea. "And, you know, the last time you propositioned me, you were fired."

" _Tante_ Alba isn't like other Matriarchs," Mira replied.

He looked at her suspiciously. She didn't seem concerned, only turned and kept on ahead, giving him a clear view of her unencumbered by a busy hospital. She was in flats today, black lacy ones. They were a far cry from the heels he'd seen her in the other day. More practical. The shirt she wore, however, was cropped. He matched her steps and glanced at her body. She had a barbell jammed through the top of her bellybutton, the metal twisted into the likeness of a scorpion. As far as he was concerned, there were too many invertebrates in his life lately.

Mira walked confidently to his car. She didn't climb through the driver's seat this time. Maybe it was because she didn't have a short skirt to tempt him with. She waited patiently for him to open up the doors while she stood on the opposite side of the car. The wind grabbed platinum hair and dragged it over the roof.

"Is it real?" Laxus asked on a whim.

She didn't need him to explain. "What do you think?"

"I think I don't know much about you, Mira." What if _she_ was the one helping the Cardinal?

When the doors were opened and she was situated in the passenger seat, she asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Do you know Gray Fullbuster?"

"Is that someone you want to join?"

"Us?" he spat when he figured out what she was trying to say.

She laughed. "Guess that means 'no'. I don't know him, Detective."

Not that it meant _much_. He imagined she could be a good liar when she wanted.

"Anything else burning your curiosity?"

Out came, "What were you doing with Zeref Dragneel?"

Mira didn't flinch. "Like I said before, what do women like me _usually_ do with men?"

"You know he's a criminal?"

"Everyone in this city knows he's a criminal," she replied smoothly. "Are you going to arrest me for consorting with him?"

"Do you partake in any illegal activities?"

She looked at him shrewdly. "Is this the kind of 'get to know you' you meant? Because I told you before, I actually do charge extra for gritty details."

Was nothing off the table? "You really sell the stories of your sexual exploits?"

She shrugged. "I change the names, of course, spice the tales up a bit. It helps some people climax." He returned her shrewd look. Mira laughed. "Me. It helps me."

"And you make other people pay for it."

One clear blue eye came down in a wink. "I know how to make money."

"You're one hundred percent trouble." Laxus unrolled his window and brought the car to life. The Guess Who's _She's Come Undone_ came out of the speakers.

"When life gets dull, a little trouble goes a long way," she said sagely.

"In my line of work, all I get is trouble," Laxus murmured.

She undid her own window, letting the warm spring air tousle her hair. "Sounds like you're the kind of man that goes looking for it."

The sad part was, he couldn't even deny her.

"It's really terrible what happened to Lucy," Mira said idly. "Were you here looking at the body earlier?" she pried when he didn't respond beyond what could have been misconstrued as an insensitive grunt.

"Earlier?" Laxus deked the car in and out of traffic.

"I saw you come into the hospital early this morning."

He supposed he should have just rolled with the body explanation but he was apparently an idiot and said, "No, I was getting checked out."

"Getting checked out?" Her eyes turned a little guarded. " _Tante_ Rosemary was very diligent about getting us tested—"

He realized what she was saying. "No. Not that way. I ran into some trouble at Somnium this morning."

"What kind of trouble?"

She was too curious for his liking. "The kind that I'm not allowed to talk about."

If he thought that was going to deter her, he was wrong. She scooted closer to him. "Tell me a bit about it. Were you there for work or pleasure?"

"You have a fucking problem with your seatbelt," he griped.

"I have a problem with a lot of things," she replied. Somehow, she was touching him like she'd been the other night, fingers seeking. "Did you get one of _Tante_ Kyouka's specials? She has exotics from all over."

He looked at her sideways. "Maybe _I_ should be the one charging."

She showed him her teeth. "Maybe. Does that mean you've decided what you're going to do with me?"

"Ha, Mirajane, I wasn't kidding about my Captain—" Mira grabbed his dick. Laxus jolted. He didn't move her hand aside, though.

"I guess that means yes." She licked his ear and started undoing the buttons on the front of her peach coloured crop top. Laxus alternated between watching her and the road, thinking without much heat, _not again._

* * *

_Sound echoed off the walls in a long, richly decorated hallway, one loud, deafening noise that pierced the eardrums and in its wake wrought silence. Feet caught on carpet as red as rubies. The ground tasted like floor polish. His mouth like iron. He'd bitten through his tongue. Nails peeled back as he scrabbled to his feet. The next door was open. Inside, red dripped down a wall white like clouds. Stark. Stark. Stark in the glow of a bedside lamp._

Jellal closed the door in memory and opened the one in reality. The girl before him now was no longer dripping in red. At least, not as she once had. The colour coiled from her, hair curled and springy, stretching toward the floor as she lay on her back on the single mattress and looked at him from upside-down. This wouldn't be where she spent her sleeping hours; it was where she waited, though. Jellal wondered if she knew she was waiting for him. Logically, he knew it wasn't possible. On the other hand, they'd done many things together that he once thought impossible.

"Miss Scarlet." He kept it formal even as he closed the door. Why did he close the door? _Open it_ , he thought. He stepped away from it.

"Back again?" She didn't make a move to get up. Her fingers splayed over her corseted belly, rhythmically swirling eyelets and ropes. Jellal watched her silver-painted nails, knowing just what kind of pleasure and pain they could bring. His throat felt like a pin-hole.

"I wanted to talk to you about the Cardinal."

"No, you don't."

"It's why I came." He came to a halt just a foot from her head and looked down at her. She wasn't ashamed to be dressed as she was; or, if she was, she hid it well. She watched his eyes move over her body and Jellal knew she had his number.

"Maybe you came here for that, but that's not what you want," Erza said knowingly.

Jellal didn't entertain her, though he longed to glean exactly what it was she thought he wanted. "He's still at large. Which means you're still at risk. I want you to reconsider police protection."

"I can't be protected and work," Erza replied.

"Take some time off."

"So I can sit and wonder about Lucy? So I can wonder if some man is going to come hunting me again?" Her mouth twitched to the left. "The only hunter in these walls is me, and that's the way I prefer it."

Hunter befit her. She was no lamb. Regardless, every instinct Jellal had told him to steer her clear of the Prayer. "When I suggested you work here those years ago, it was a safe place. Tante Alba gave you the sanctuary you needed while you recovered." Erza's eyes got hard as he dredged up the past. Jellal kept going. "We don't know who the Cardinal is, though. He can walk into these walls without trouble and come to you. Maybe he already has."

"Just like you did? Maybe you're the Cardinal, Jellal," Erza said in a wry way that let him know she was trying to get beneath his skin for his careless romp into the past. "As I recall, you're quite good at skewing—"

" _Enough_." He didn't mean for his voice to come out in such a short burst. Erza's eyes widened slightly; she hadn't, either. She rolled over and sat up gracefully. Scarlet locks drooped over her shoulder and rested between her breasts.

"I didn't mean it." She was suddenly and shockingly sober.

Jellal swallowed past a lump in his throat. "Forget it."

Erza looked like she'd been thoroughly scolded. "I know you're a decent man."

Decent. Not good because good people didn't lie to save beautiful killers. But decent. He rubbed his palms on his pants again and felt where the material was roughed from countless times repeating the motion. His nervous-tell was leaving tells of its own.

"I'm just…" Erza trailed off.

"It's fine." Jellal went digging through his pocket and pulled out one of his cards. His stash was getting dangerously low. "You can call me. If you want. About the case," he added when she lifted her eyes and met his gaze but did not take the card. "Or if you change your mind about the police protection." Talking about deadly matters wasn't the distraction Jellal hoped it would be. He still couldn't take his eyes away from that bolt of red silk sliding over her shoulders. Or the ivory that was kissed with freckles. Her nose, her cheeks, even the lifted tops of her breasts. Those gifts from the sun gave her a softness that belied the mess she'd made of Dan Andrews. And the violence-tinged memory he carried half-hazed in tequila and cherry champagne.

Jellal put the card in her hand when she still didn't move.

Her fingers closed. "Jellal…"

"Yeah?"

Eyes as dark as coffee lifted. Contrite, that would be the best way to describe her expression. He waited to see what kind of apology she'd offer him. Her fingers brushed his and brought him down a few inches. "Technically, I'm not working now, but _Tante_ Alba lets me make my own hours. If you stayed, it wouldn't be like before."

"I would hope not," he replied. "I don't see any other men to kill."

"Plenty of people deserve to die," she said in a way that was both haunting and concerning.

Jellal studied her. Just inches away— _how_?—he couldn't help but see the individual strands of hair that brushed her cheek, the slightly smeared eyeliner that made her eyes seem all that much darker, the glimmer of the diamond earrings that hung in her earlobes.

"Where were you the night of March second?" Jellal asked on a whim.

Her fingers squeezed his. "Now you're wondering if I'm the Cardinal?" She didn't ask in a way that was particularly troubled.

Jellal didn't respond.

She— _thankfully_ —leaned back. "I wouldn't have left myself a box of thorns."

"You're not the only one that lived in that apartment."

A seriousness came to her. "Are you honestly wondering?"

"I'm a cop, Erza, I always wonder."

She loosened her fingers; Jellal did not. "I suppose you're not going to tell me you didn't mean it."

He only looked at her.

"I'm not sick."

"If I didn't ask, I wouldn't be very good at my job," he said by way of apology.

Though she looked mildly affronted, she replied, "I was tending _Tante_ Rosemary that night."

It wasn't unusual for some _Tante's_ to purchase the company of their own escorts. He stood straight, fingers brushing over the tips of her hair in a way that was both accidental and, contrarily, purposeful. It was as he remembered: silk. "Call me."

She asked, "Does that mean you're satisfied?"

"I think I'm always unsatisfied after visiting you."

"And _I_ think I should be insulted."

He thought she should be pleased; he couldn't stop looking at her. He couldn't stop remembering how her fingers felt. Her mouth. Her body. He was back to running his palms over his pants. "Stay out of trouble, Erza, and be careful."

"I'm always careful."

"You've lied to me too many times for me to believe that."

He left before he could not.

* * *

Forty-three Tricard Street would have been an innocuous little house if not for Laxus' '69 hot yellow Plymouth in the driveway. The bricks it was built with were quaint, white and twice Laxus' age, though in good condition. In addition to the brick siding was the blue painted garage doors. Typically, he didn't bother putting his car in the garage but thought today might warrant a little bit of caution. He hit the button on his visor and watched the doors rise more carefully than he watched Mirajane stroking his cock. When he was sixteen, he'd tried to bring his grandfather's truck into the garage. He'd hit the button, saw the door was rising and didn't give it enough time. That had been an expensive mistake, one he was not going to repeat, even for a good handy.

He eased the car between a tire rack and a lawnmower that was going to need an oil change before long and closed the door. Darkness filled the garage. He turned off the car and finally sat back to watch the girl work.

"Are we going to stay out here?" Mira whispered.

He'd like to just sit there and let her continue. That'd be nice. It'd also be nice to get her pants off and have some room to move.

"Detective?"

The moniker served to remind him that what he was doing was very, very wrong. She was part of an investigation once again. And the Captain really was going to have his ass if she knew.

He thought that would deter him. It only made him harder. What the fuck was it about having something you weren't supposed to have that made it seem just _so much better_? Laxus stretched his lungs as far as he could. "We'll go in."

"Good." She kissed his throat and slowed her hand.

The hardest part was letting her stop. He arched into her palm. The motion put pressure on the holster around his ankle. That was a bit of reality he so desperately needed. He grabbed her by the wrist and took her hand away. "You need to give me a minute. Stay here for a few?"

She grabbed his thigh and leaned into him. "Why?"

"Just…"

It was hard to think with her pushing her body on him. Without her shirt on, she was in only a white silk bra that left very little to the imagination. He brushed a pert peak and watched her eyes close. _Maybe the car isn't so bad._

_You really_ should _do a sweep of the house._ Should. Definitely. He pushed his back further against the seat and felt the pain those two bullets left behind. _Do the sweep._ He could think of better ways to die than with his pants around his ankles while he was buried in an escort. More dignified ways. People could say he was lazy but not careless.

"I need to check something." He tucked himself back in his pants.

Some amour fell from her eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine." He did up his zipper and tugged the gun from his ankle. Mirajane eyed it warily. Laxus glanced at her and realized she was trying to decide whether to hit him or not—if this was going to be one of _those_ days. He tried not to feel too insulted. He was suspicious by nature, too. "Just a sec."

She only relaxed against the door when he got out of the car. Laxus got his keys out, found the appropriate one, then pointed the gun to the step and tugged the slider back. Only when it made that satisfying _click_ did he insert his key in the garage door and open it slowly, quietly.

Inside, a few of the lights were on from his grandfather's late-night escapades, the one over the kitchen table, the one from his bedroom. The TV was still going. Laxus heard the sounds of _Twenty-Four._ Some gunshots were fired. It was obviously not real; it still made him tense. There was something about being shot at that made his heart beat with unease.

He swept every room and saw no evidence of intruders. After that, he made his rounds, checking windows and doors. A sound in the kitchen made him tense up again. coming out from the washroom, he toed his way down the hall, gun still pointed at the floor but _ready,_ and felt everything contract when he saw a body in the kitchen. He was lifting the weapon. Last-second, he registered that it was Mirajane lingering by the table, her crop top done up once more. She lifted her gaze from a _Wildlife_ magazine, saw the gun, and went back to being tense.

"What the hell?" Laxus scolded her. "I told you to wait in the car."

"Is this your house or not?" Mira asked.

"Of course it is."

"Then why are you sweeping it?"

His muscles felt watery. He sighed and crossed to the garage door. "I told you," he said over the sound of the lock engaging. "I ran into some trouble early this morning."

" _That_ kind of trouble?" She nodded to the gun.

Laxus put the safety back on and returned. The girl before him looked uneasy standing in the afternoon light. "Do you want me to take you back to the Prayer?"

She wavered. Laxus was tugging his keys out of his pocket again when she said, "No." He searched her eyes to see if what she was saying was true. She blinked and all of her uncertainty was gone. "I'm not a stranger to trouble."

Not Mirajane Strauss, no.

She came to him, bare feet gently padding over the white tile. She'd kicked off her flats by the door. Her fingers brushed his chest and came up to his shoulders. Laxus adjusted his grip on his gun and held it tightly when Mira moved down his arms and let her fingers linger around the metal. She tried to take it; he didn't let it go so she satisfied herself with kissing his throat instead. He was hard again in seconds.

"I should have a shower first," he said, thinking of his too-long shift and his too-hot vest.

Mira undid her shirt again and grabbed herself. "Sure. Where should I wait for you?"

He tried to think if there was anything in his room he didn't want her going through. His head was blank. He took her hand and led her from the kitchen. His bedroom was messy. _The Chair_ was overflowing with clothes, his closet was open, suits half-pulled out, ties wrapped on door handles. Mira let her fingers skim one on the way by. "How do you feel about being tied up, Laxus?"

"Ha." His laugh was slightly nervous. "I don't know."

Her smile went mean. She was judging him for sure. "Go shower. I'll wait."

Laxus took himself and his gun into the washroom he and his grandfather shared and set about doing just that. When he was done, he wondered if when he came back out, Mira would be gone with all of his most expensive things (a pair of gold cufflinks Gramps gave him on his graduation day, the diamond engagement ring that had been his mother's before she died, his father's wedding band before he tore it from his finger and went AWOL).

The girl was on his bed wearing no pockets to stuff those things into. While he was sad he wouldn't get to see her undress—the dark and pulsating lights of passing cars had hidden much from him the last time they did this—he couldn't find much to complain about. Other than his good tie wrapped around her neck. The silk fell between her breasts, dark against her pale skin. She clutched the material while her fingers worked between her legs. Her skin was flushed and her breath was short. She turned her face and looked at him. Her mouth tilted.

Laxus closed the door and went to her without having to be asked, though he felt more uncertain about how to proceed today than he had been in the car the other night. Then Mira had led and he didn't wonder what was too much, where he could touch her, what was _too_ intimate. Everything was at his disposal today.

She read the look in his eye. "Are you going to get your money's worth today?"

If he had anything to say about it. "Is anything off the table?"

"I won't do furry stuff," she said. "Rough is fine to a degree."

"I don't want to hurt you."

Her fingers started moving faster once more. "You can touch me wherever you want but anal's extra." She saw the spark of interest come to him and smiled wider. "Do you have extra, Detective?"

He came to the bed. Mira grabbed the towel at his waist and pulled. She stopped working on herself so she could start working on him. "I should make it worth my while, shouldn't I?" he wondered when she kissed the tip of his cock.

"In that case, get on your knees and we'll make it so."

He wasn't sure why he agreed at first. Then he felt her tongue and thought _oh._

* * *

_Black satin ribbons. She untied them from her scarlet locks and used them to trace trails of pleasure over his skin. Closing his eyes seemed impossible so he watched her until his eyes were dry. His lungs ached. He realized he'd forgotten to breathe. His pants were soaked in champagne. His skin itched. The sensation was a million miles away._

_He tasted lipstick as she pressed their mouths together again. The ribbons were dropped and got lost on the floor; his pants came undone. She trailed kisses down his sternum, shimmying off his lap so she, too, was on the floor and wet with spilled champagne. Did she care? If so, she buried it beneath fervor. She pulled him out and teased the tip of his cock with a tongue that was hotter than cinders._

_Jellal thought she'd keep going. She sat up and reached for the tequila on the nightstand._

_His head was spinning as she poured out the burnished liquid and brandished it. "I have to work tomorrow."_

_"So do I," Erza whispered. "So what?"_

So what. _He wasn't sure he_ liked _being a constable anyway. It hadn't been very long. He'd tried just as hard as he needed to and not an ounce more. He could just…_

_Go back to the way things were._

_He took the glass._

_She poured another. Amber tequila spilled. Jellal's front and what was left of his uniform got even more saturated in alcohol. He laughed instead of getting mad. Erza took a lime from the end table and rolled it in salt. They clanked and drank. And again. Erza took two more after that right from the bottle. She was drunk. Jellal thought he was drunker. He took the bottle from her because_

So what?

His phone hummed in the waking world. He reached for it groggily. There was no bowl of sliced limes, no ramekins of salt beneath his fingers. No mostly-drunk bottles of tequila and no strings of scarlet to tie him up in knots. There was only Beau, his phone, and his familiar nightstand. His fingers brushed over the raised lacquer, a casualty from one of his many cups of coffee. Caffeine pills were sent scattering when he nudged the bottle in his search. They rolled noisily across the floor and ended up somewhere beneath his dresser. Beau lifted her head and huffed. Jellal couldn't find his phone and it stopped ringing so he grabbed the dog and pulled her back down. She went willingly. He buried his nose in her fur. She smelled like the baby shampoo Wendy had washed her in yesterday after she rolled in the mud.

Dream was calling him again.

His phone shrilled.

Torn between the two and unable to decide which to listen to, Jellal listened to _neither._ He opened his eyes and looked into Beau's black and gold fur and _existed_ for long enough that his phone stopped and started _again_.

_Answer it._ Sleeping through phone calls was Laxus' shtick, not his.

_What if it's Erza?_

He didn't know why it would be. He didn't know why he _hoped_ it would be.

He made more of an effort to find the phone. It was stuffed beneath a yellow file on Kyouka. Not that there was _much_ in there. While she managed to skirt handcuffs, her bar had been known to play host to some terrible—and in some cases _lethal—_ bar fights. Other than that, she was squeaky clean. No record, no complaints lodged against her—likely because anyone that dared _think_ to complain found themselves suddenly without a tongue.

Jellal brought the phone to his ear. He expected Laxus when he said hello but got _Tante_ Alba instead.

"He will meet you in _Prodiguer_ ," she said by way of greeting.

"Black Dragon?" Jellal asked, suddenly awake.

"At nine. You and your partner. No one else. Leave your weapons and your badges in your car and speak to no one of this."

" _Tante_ —"

"I can do nothing, Jellal. Those were his terms."

"Thank you."

"I did you no favours, don't thank me. Don't let him kill you." She hung up before he could get in another word.

Jellal checked the clock. It was seven already. His internal clock was so fucked up he didn't know _what_ it was doing anymore. Beau seemed to be alright as long as he lay there with her. He couldn't, not for long. He petted her coarse fur and scratched her belly, then apologized profusely, though he didn't think she appreciated his excuses. He phoned Laxus when he was out of bed and pulling on a pair of slacks. His partner had been asleep. No surprise. Jellal filled him in. At the end of it, he said, "Dragon wants to meet us at _Prodiguer._ "

"Really?"

"Yeah. Wear your good tie." Jellal heard Laxus say on the other end of the line, "I'm going to need that back," and decided that he didn't want to know who he was talking to or why they had his tie. "I'll be by in twenty. Be ready."

"Yeah."

* * *

"There were supposed to be two of you."

Erza looked up from the bed she made her living on and met the man's eyes. Though they were covered in a black composite mask like Jellal's had been, she could tell that they were hard. No-nonsense. He intimidated her and she didn't even know _why_.

_It's his profession_.

She knew a cop when he walked through her doors, even if his face was covered and his badge was left behind.

_It's not his profession._

Jellal's words wouldn't leave her be. The crown left outside her apartment. The wig Lucy had been forced to wear. She touched her hair to make sure it was still done elaborately. Tangled in those locks was her second pair of brass knuckles, the ones the police _hadn't_ confiscated. She took comfort from the feeling of that heavy weight.

Confident once more, Erza drew herself up. "As I told _Tante_ Alba, Mira isn't feeling well." Not that she knew _where_ her partner was. She'd just _disappeared. Again._ She thought she might get away with the lie, the _Tante_ had seemed rather distracted when she'd fibbed that night. "But I'll make it worth your trouble, Sir." She rose and went to him. He let her undo the buttons of his expensive suit. She dropped the material to the ground, half thinking of a different Lawman. She fingered the tattoo over his heart and then traced his muscled arms to his wrist where more ink lived. He didn't hesitate to grab her, though his fingers were bandaged together, making things awkward, surely. Erza let him touch her and tried to do the work of two girls.


	11. Chapter 11

Mira lifted her hair off her shoulders beneath Laxus' watchful eyes. She thought that in keeping her back to him, he was _more_ interested in what her skin looked like than if she just turned around and let him eye her as she dressed. She relished in the attention. It was rare she had such fun with a man. Rarer still that she found herself wanting him to call her back. Erza had strict rules that Mira took to following as well. While she didn't have the same reservations about kissing, she did not want men getting attached to her. It was bad for business. People got jealous. They got vocal. And then they got stupid.

Laxus Dreyar didn't strike her as an impractical man, though. She tested the waters to see if he was stupid, turning to look at him with her most ingénue smile. "Have you heard anything else about that man in my apartment the other day?"

Laxus looked up from where he tripped into a pair of black slacks. "No. Not yet. I think we'll find him, though. From the description, it doesn't seem like he's the kind of guy to hide in plain sight."

And that's where he was wrong. Elfman had eluded the police for a very, very long time. He was a professional and he very, very rarely slipped up.

Before doing up the zipper of his pants, Laxus slid into a white dress shirt. "You don't have to worry about it, Mirajane. We're closing in on this case."

Mira unfolded herself from the bed and went to him. In only her underwear and his tie, Laxus studied her like many men before him had. But also not. It felt different. She'd be damned if she could say _why,_ though. She let her feet slide over the burnished wood floor and brushed his hands away from the shirt's buttons. While she was sad to do up the fabric, blocking out the skin that had been graced with the flaming orange light of the setting sun that snuck through his white blinds, she was also more than happy to keep touching him. She _liked_ the way his eyes got heavy-lidded.

"I was speaking to a girl in the Prayer. One of the escorts." She stretched the truth some. People had been _welcoming_ there, _sure_ , but they didn't trust an outsider—especially not enough to talk about stuff like this. It was one of the strangest places she'd ever worked. The most secretive. The most vice-inducing. She'd never been surrounded by so many drugs and she'd been an escort for years.

"Yeah?" Laxus asked. He was sidling into his cop voice. Mira played up the damsel bit.

"She said she was attacked the other day. And that she came in to see you."

"You mean Zoya Balewa."

"Yes."

"What about it?" Laxus asked.

Mira took the tie from around her throat and looped it around Laxus' instead. "She said that she thought it might have been Rahkeid Dragneel that attacked her. Is that true?"

As easy as pie, he told her, "We cleared Rahkeid of his involvement that night."

"And on the day Laura Stone died?"

"He wasn't in the country," Laxus said.

Mira let her shoulders drop. "So you don't think it was him at all? It's just… sometimes he used to come into the Barrel and after I spoke with Zeref the other day, I'm wondering if he's going to come to the Prayer, too. Should I be telling him to find someone else to do business with?"

Any suspicion that had been building behind his eyes demolished. "I think you're okay. You should be careful, though."

" _Tante_ Alba's guards all have permits to carry," she said. "I'm told the Prayer is a safe place."

"One of the safer places anyway," Laxus agreed.

Mira tightened his tie to the sound of wheels rolling up the driveway. "Is that your partner?"

Laxus pulled out of her grasp and tucked his shirt into his pants, doing them up as he went to the window and tugged down the blinds. "Yeah. Listen, is there some place we can drop you off?"

"I have someone coming for me," she said.

Laxus looked back at her with a brow raised.

"My brother," she answered his unasked question. "Don't worry. I didn't tell him to pick me up from your driveway. No one's going to be asking why there're strange cars at your house."

"Where's he getting you from?"

"The park on the corner," she said.

Laxus looked like he was going to protest. Mira breezed by him and shimmied into her jeans. She pulled on her bra and then her crop top next with an authority that left little room for his complaints. "If you're worried I'm going to be snatched up, don't, Detective, my brother isn't the kind of man that would let anything bad happen to me." She grabbed her phone off his dresser and saw that she had four missed calls from Erza. She punched into her phone _are you okay?_

She got a text back almost immediately. _Yes, where are you?_

_With a dick._ She used a winky face and hoped her joke might put some humour into Erza. All she got back was

_Why?_

_I'll be there soon. Talk then._

She shoved the phone into her back pocket and grabbed up her purse. "It was fun, Detective. I hope we can do it again," she said lightly. " _Tante_ Alba doesn't let Lawmen in as a rule, but she's been known to bend for… special cases. I'll speak to her about you."

When she turned back and found him again, he was stuffing his own phone in his pocket, his wallet, and then strapping a gun's holster on his ankle. When he stood, she fixed his hair, combing it with her fingers, and then brushed his lips in what was supposed to be a teasing kiss. She stayed there longer than she should have and let him touch her in a way that would have been appropriate if he was paying but since the clock wasn't running…

She pulled back when he did not. "Does that sound good?"

"It sounds like my pockets aren't deep enough."

She winked. "But I like you."

"I'll show you out," Laxus said.

It wasn't a yes. Sure wasn't a no, though. "Don't bother, I know my way," Mira replied. She left without another word. Voices coming from the kitchen caught her attention. In the dark safety of the hall splattered with family photos, she fixed her eye makeup and the lip gloss she'd put on before she smeared it all over Laxus' face, and came into the kitchen were two elderly people sat at the kitchen table.

The man, small and grey and bushy and generally ornery-looking, turned his eyes from his tablemate and let his words trail off.

"Hi!" Mira said brightly and bee-lined for her shoes. Sleeping there and getting drawn into weird Domestic Town was _not_ her intention.

"Hello." Funny, the old man didn't sound nearly as ornery as he looked.

The woman, however, was a different story. Her hard eyes matched her hard tone. "Who are you?"

"A friend." Laxus' voice saved Mira from stammering. She put on a cool face again and turned to wave at him leaning against the doorway in the hall. He did look good in his suit. Most cops did. She couldn't resist blowing him a kiss and miming for him to call her. She grabbed her shoes, not taking the time to slip them on, and braved the rapidly cooling world. It had been warm enough that morning to go to the hospital in just her T-shirt but now as night crept on she was lamenting that decision. She tugged her phone out and scrolled through the numbers while she simultaneously pulled on her shoes and ducked to mouth hello to Detective Fernandez in the front seat of his midnight blue Charger. He looked both unsurprised and disappointed to see her. It wasn't a look she usually got from men.

There was no time to dwell, the other line was answered. "Mira?"

"Hey. Pick me up on the corner of Tricard and Main?"

"The park?"

"You got it."

He hung up before she could say anything else.

"Mirajane." Jellal had gotten out of his car. He was about to say something to her that she was sure she wouldn't like. Maybe _stop seducing my partner and jeopardizing our case. Wait until the investigation's over_ or some nonsense. The opening front door and Laxus' arrival saved her the hassle of thinking up a decent reply.

She waved. "Nice to see you, Detective Fernandez, Dreyar. Good luck catching the bad guy."

She got her other shoe on and then she was _out of there_.

The sidewalks were empty save for pools of streetlights that got brighter as the sun got duller. Nighttime was fast approaching. Erza was probably already seeing her first customer and while Mira felt bad, she had more important things to do.

Ahead, the park's playground loomed against the skyline, a giant rusting relic that really needed to be replaced. Most playgrounds were plastic now but this was an older neighbourhood. All the children that had lived here had grown up and moved away or matured beyond the social setting that was the park. The Lifers, Mira liked to call those. The ones that grew up saying that they hated Magnolia but could never dare to step foot outside its perimeter. Somehow, she knew that Laxus was a lifer. He'd grown up in this place, she was sure of it. He seemed like just the type to say he hated his city but there he was, in the thick of things, getting to know the _real_ Magnolia like she did, the Magnolia most city folk and tourists were blind to.

They had more in common than she'd originally thought. She, too, was a lifer, though this waltz into the slag had been a recent thing.

A black Audi limousine pulled up to the curb. The door opened and Mira slid in. She was underdressed for the car. And the company, her brother included, sitting there on the seat opposite to her, a fat cigar between his fingers, acrid smoke coiling out of an open sunroof. He didn't smile when he saw her. Zeref did, though.

"Hello, Mirajane."

"Hi, Zeref." Mira closed the door and folded her hands in her lap.

"And?"

"He really doesn't think it was Rahkeid."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. If he was going to lie to me about it, he would have just said that he couldn't talk about it at all." She looked at Zeref suspiciously. " _Should_ I be worried it was Rahkeid?"

Zeref waved her off. "The documents regarding his whereabouts were falsified, sure, but my son isn't a killer. I just needed to know if the police suspected we'd lied."

She could tell Zeref wasn't absolutely _certain_ of that fact, either, despite his claims. It didn't do much to put her at ease. "I don't think so."

"That's good. We've got a fall in place anyway. In a couple hours a suspect is going to be locked up and everything's going to calm down."

"The killer's still on the loose, though," Mira said.

"I'll find him," Elfman replied. "Don't worry about that. What's important is that the Dragneel reputation doesn't get smeared." How did he become such a faithful dog?

Zeref's smile never faltered. "The Cardinal can't hide from his own kind."

Mira wondered what it was to cross the largest crime syndicate in the city. If she was _brave_ enough to. She spoke anyway, regardless of how sagacious it was. "The police should handle this. And what about the guy that's going to jail? If he's innocent—"

Real humor came to Zeref's eye. "He's not innocent, don't worry about that."

"But if he didn't kill anyone—"

"There are other crimes. He's been a nuisance for some time. Dogged. Profits have dropped since he's come into the scene. It's rare me and Acnologia agree on anything but when it comes to this, we've pooled our resources."

It was never good when vipers started nesting together. Mira appealed to her brother who would undoubtedly be the one planning out the crime. "Elfman—"

"It's done, Mira. Leave it," he said firmly.

"Are you hungry, Miss Strauss?" Zeref asked.

She knew better than to argue anymore. Not while Zeref was there "I don't have anything nice—"

"We'll make a stop."

The car started rolling. Elfman broke the strained silence. "Did you see her?"

"Yes. She misses you."

He puffed more aggressively on his cigar.

"You should go see her."

"Last time I did, she had a relapse."

"They've put her on better medication," Mira tried.

Elfman didn't speak again. Mira took out her phone. Her battery was dying. She typed to Erza, _going to be a little longer. Sorry. Family stuff._ Hopefully, she'd feel too awkward to ask.

* * *

Jellal propped his elbow up on the window seam and rested his cheek against his knuckles. He drove to the sounds of the Gallows cover of Nirvana's _Smells like Teen Spirit_ playing off his Bluetooth. He hadn't put it on but he couldn't help but bask in the song. He was in fact worst at what he did best.

"Where the fuck do you find this shit?" Laxus asked, fixing the cigarette over his ear. He hadn't smoked since the other day when Ultear called them into his office but he was toeing the line.

"Where the fuck do you find Mirajane Strauss?" Jellal rebuked.

Laxus clamped his lips together. Jellal shot a disgusted look his way, half-mad, half-apathetic and furious with himself for his apathy. In an effort to deflect, Laxus asked, "How did your trip to the Prayer go?"

"Just fucking stellar," Jellal replied.

Laxus wasn't fooled. "You'd probably feel better if it had been."

Jellal couldn't help it, he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. He knew their role reversal and his shitty mood had more to do with his incessant dreams and the sheer amount of caffeine moving through his veins than any serious fear he had of his partner overstepping policy. No one understood better than he did that sometimes, there were grey areas in the law. Sometimes, he inhabited them and exploited them to his full advantage. Ultear even let him, if he promised not to fuck up too bad. Lesser of the evils, right?

"Was it good at least?"

"Expensive," Laxus griped.

Yeah. " _Tante_ Alba charges a premium."

"You think she's ever going to see that coin?"

Jellal shook his head. "If you were smart, you wouldn't say anything to her about it, either." Here they were, trying to cross dragons and goddesses and spiders alike.

"Gramps saw her."

"Mira?"

"Yeah."

Jellal laughed in earnest. "What he'd have to say?"

Laxus looked out at the world speeding by. "I told him I didn't have time to stand around chatting. I'm sure he's going to try to bribe me at some point, though. Get the details."

Jellal dropped his foot on the gas to make a yellow light. Someone turning right slammed on their breaks and honked. When they pulled out and sped up beside them, rolling down their window to yell at high-speeds, Jellal went rooting through his pocket for his badge. He pressed it against the window. Predictably, the motorist fell back, properly shamed. Before Laxus could say something clever or cutting, Jellal asked, "Are you packing?"

"Dragon said he didn't want us bringing heat."

"So?"

"Yeah. I got my gun," Laxus admitted.

"Lose it."

"Come on, man—"

Jellal looked at him dryly. "He's going to check. Lose the gun."

The serene expression Laxus had been toting since he got in the Charger fell away. _Finally_. Jellal didn't know how much more he could stand of Laxus' chirpiness. He pulled his Glock 19 from his ankle and jammed the whole ensemble, holster and all, in the glove compartment.

"We're going to get shot."

"We're not going to get shot."

"Why the fuck else would he tell us to show up without our badges and guns, huh? No one knows where we're going. He's looking to drop us."

" _Prodiguer_ is his pride and joy. There's going to be all kinds of bigwigs there. He won't risk a scene just to get rid of some nosy cops."

Laxus was contrary to the last. "Sure he would."

He might. "I got a friend watching us."

Laxus turned suspicious. "Who?"

"Just this guy I know."

"From the Prayer?"

Jellal pulled around a transport full of bread. "What the hell is your obsession with that, huh?"

"Because. You've been open about everything but _that_. Which makes me think you got something to hide."

Jellal developed an expression he knew had fooled many of hardened Lawmen and criminals alike. "I told you everything there is to know about working there."

"Maybe your Clint Eastwood face works on Ultear but not me," Laxus said.

"Clint Eastwood?"

He waved his hand in annoyance. "Broody, devil-may-care, no-one-gives-a-fuck-less-than-someone-who-has-nothing-to-hide."

"The fuck is that?"

Laxus pointed at him. "That's a description of your liar's face. It's the same face you wear when you steal my fries when you think I'm not looking."

Jellal snorted and focused on the road, mostly because Laxus had him in his crosshairs.

"One day you're going to tell me what you're hiding."

"One day," Jellal agreed.

Seemingly validated, Laxus grabbed up Jellal's phone and scrolled through his music list, landing lastly on Pantera's _Cowboys from Hell._ Jellal imagined that his partner felt very much like a cowboy in that moment, riding into the enemy's den. What the fuck was a cowboy without his gun, though?

* * *

_Prodiguer_ resided in the heart of Magnolia's Entertainment District. It didn't subscribe to loud things like lights and exterior music and _Open_ signs. _Prodiguer_ strove to be the exact _opposite_. From the outside, it looked like a stout black building, nondescript save for the man in a black tuxedo standing beneath the black stone archway by the equally black door. Jellal pulled his Charger up, feeling trashy and poor, though the car had set him back decently.

"He's carrying," Laxus said, looking at the man.

"They'll all be."

"Right. And this friend of yours?"

"Him, too. Let's hope that he doesn't have to act on that favour he owes me." He didn't think any covering fire laid down, even by a man wielding a Colt CM901, was going to save their hides if the bullets started flying.

Laxus blew out a breath that was all nerves.

"Be cool," Jellal told him.

Laxus rolled his eyes and threw open the door. The tuxedo wearer nodded his hello. "Gentlemen." He didn't ask who they were or why they were there. " _Seigneur_ welcomes you to _Prodiguer._ "

" _Merci_." Jellal handed the man his keys. When Tuxedo took them and got in the car to find a place for it, another man wearing another tuxedo carrying _more_ guns filled his place. Jellal smiled tightly at him and walked through the door the man held open. On the other side was a world that was charred maple walls, white tile floors. It was as simple and bare-bones inside as it had been out. The only things that spoke to its propensity toward the extravagant were the bar stocked with only the finest liquor, the few men and women that filled the tables in their finest evening wear, and the plates around the sparse tables filled with carefully prepared food.

"Pretentious," Laxus murmured beneath his breath.

"Yeah, it hides well but this place is swank," Jellal agreed. No one but those Acnologia invited set foot within _Prodiguer._

"I meant you with your fucking _merci_."

Jellal puffed out his cheeks. There was plenty he wanted to say. And there was no time to say it. He fixed the tie that felt like it was choking him most days and greeted the hostess that stood behind a podium. She lifted kohled eyes and smiled prettily, young and blonde and busty and foreign.

" _Messieurs._ This way." She led them off again without an explanation, stepping from the (public?) dining room through a door at the back to a more private area. It was decorated much like the front of house, but this room held only one table dressed in a white tablecloth. The walls surrounding it were one-way glass, thick enough to be bulletproof while the floors were that same white tile. Jellal missed the wood; it had given what was a cold and dichromatic world a little bit of warmth.

Two men stepped from beside the door and, without a word, started patting them down. Jellal stared straight ahead while he was manhandled. Laxus was a little more vocal, complaining when his guard cupped his dick.

"All clear," the man said into an earpiece a second later. _Another_ door opened and the man of the hour stepped through. It had been a while since Jellal had last seen Acnologia, since he'd been working for _Tante_ Alba, actually. Acnologia steered clear of the law, ruling his not-so-small criminal empire with the help of people like _Tante_ Kyouka and her Matriarch. He played no sides, providing resources and off-the-books properties for his drug trade to flourish and then selling the finished product to Matriarchs like _Tante_ Alba and _Tante_ Kyouka. His direct competitor was Zeref Dragneel, and though tensions ran high between them, very rarely did the streets openly run with the blood of their underlings. They were civil.

Upfront.

Acnologia pulled out the chair at the head of the table and lowered himself in, affording Jellal a look at all the ways the man had changed over the years. Keloid scars, cut and packed with ash over and over again and then stained blue with tattoo ink covered his face. When he picked up a wine bottle from the center of the table and poured himself a glass, Jellal saw that the tattoos were on his arms, too. He searched for a rosary and saw none. That didn't mean _much._ "The search was a necessary precaution," Acnologia said. "Forgive me. Sit."

Jellal thought he was going to have to unsolder his partner from the floor but when he moved, Laxus moved and everything was fine. He sat at Acnologia's right, Laxus took his left. He could feel eyes on him and when he lifted his gaze, he saw why. There on the balcony above, were three men with guns. He picked out a familiar face and felt— _slightly_ —more relieved. It was true, Erik owed him. It was true, Erik agreed to give him backup if shit went bad. It was also true that Erik was a slimy worm with a very flexible code of honour. "That's necessary, too?" Jellal asked, nodding to the not-so-subtle glint of muzzles in the overhead lights.

Acnologia said nothing on the matter. "Why do you come?"

"I want to talk to you about the snow the girls have been snorting before the Cardinal kills them."

Acnologia paused with his wineglass halfway to his lips. "I wouldn't know about that."

Jellal looked at him matter-of-factly. "I don't have a badge or a gun. No one knows I'm here in any professional capacity so let's cut the bullshit because you're not fooling anyone and you haven't for a long time. You're the biggest dealer in the city next to Zeref Dragneel."

"I hear _Tante_ Alba—"

"She sells what you allow her to sell," Jellal said.

Laxus looked like he was having a meltdown across the table. He kept shooting Jellal _what the fuck_ looks coupled with _are you fucking crazy_? Maybe. Acnologia understood very few languages, though. Money, violence, and grandstanding.

Jellal continued. "The man we're looking for has been buying good quality stuff. _Your_ quality stuff." He felt like he was throwing himself into the fire here. There were a lot of things telling him to shut the fuck up because it seemed very likely that Acnologia, in fact, could be the Cardinal, but they had already come too far and if they just pulled out now and it turned out Acnologia _did_ have something to hide… well, Jellal wasn't _too_ interested in seeing what Blooms River looked like on the bottom.

Acnologia said plainly, "You just said yourself that I have many distributors. I don't think I can help you."

"I disagree," Jellal said. "I talked to our profiler—" He didn't think Laxus could look any _more_ like he'd swallowed a sour grape but at the mention of Meredy his detestation for the situation went from three to eleven. His game face was decent, at least. Jellal didn't think Acnologia knew that Laxus was biting back a slew of unimaginative words. "—and she said that our guy's likely rich. Privileged. Thinks he's a big deal, you know?"

"Sure," Acnologia said with disinterest.

"And _I_ think that if he's buying, he's buying right from the source."

Acnologia sat back and swirled his wine. "You think I've seen your killer."

"You or _Tante_ Alba or Zeref Dragneel."

"And you come to me."

Jellal tried a smile. "You seemed like the most approachable."

Acnologia didn't smile back. "What has _Tante_ Alba said?"

"She's…"

"Uncooperative?" Acnologia supplied. "I can't imagine why."

"Neither can we," Laxus added. "Noble cause and all."

"Off the record," Jellal said. "If you can think of anyone or know of any of your sellers that might have any information—"

"The streets are talking all the time." Acnologia checked his gold watch. "But what they speak about most _interestingly_ is the Lawmen guarding Magnolia."

"The cops?" Jellal repeated.

"Yes. The police." The man's phone buzzed. He checked it and quirked his mouth. It wasn't an expression that exuded warmth. "One might think if you were looking for corruption and a killer that knew how to outsmart the law, you might be looking toward those tasked with upholding it."

"You know something." Laxus snagged on to the man's words and ran with them.

"I know lots of things."

"About this. You know who we're looking for. And they're a cop. Give us a name."

Jellal knew there was only _one_ name Laxus was interested in hearing.

"I don't have a name. At least, not a specific one. But for a modest cost, I could be bribed to part with a few of the men and women in uniform that have come to me with escorts on their arms, looking to extend their evenings."

Before Jellal could dare to ask _what kind of cost,_ Laxus' phone was ringing.

"Sorry…" Laxus pulled it out and checked the caller ID. His mouth went flat. He pressed the top button to silence the vibration and was putting it back in his pocket when Acnologia said,

"I really think you should get that, Mister Dreyar."

The way he said it put Jellal's back up. He checked the balcony above. Three men still watched them. Erik was gone, though. Tension made his shoulders stiff. "Answer the phone, Laxus."

Laxus only hesitated for a moment before he stood from the table and walked a short distance away. Jellal checked the balcony again.

"If you're looking for your friend, I found somewhere else for him to be," Acnologia said plainly. "I think it's bad policy to have guards that are in my enemy's debts."

"We're not enemies," Jellal said in what he hoped was a mollifying manner.

"I hope not. I don't like being accused of things," Acnologia replied.

"No one's accusing anyone of anything."

Laxus rejoined the table, a peculiar look on his face.

"What?" Jellal asked.

"That was the Captain. She called to tell me that ballistics came back and matched Fullbuster's service pistol. They picked him up and hour ago and he confessed to the Cardinal murders."

"What?"

"Yeah. She's got a signed confession and—" He trailed off, looking at their company.

"Oh, don't mind me," Acnologia said, falsely jovial. "Continue."

"Actually, it's time we took off, I think. Thanks for taking the time to meet with us," Jellal said, standing and smoothing his tie. "I appreciate it."

The man didn't extend the same pleasantries.

Laxus joined him in step. Jellal stole one last glance at the balcony and saw muzzle after muzzle trained on him. Acnologia's men had reinforcements. _He was actually about to fill us in._ His palms tingled with nerves as he wondered how his evening _would_ have ended if they didn't receive that bit of news.

He walked faster.

* * *

"Gray's stupid but he's not _stupid_ ," Laxus said.

"Do you even listen to yourself?"

Laxus rolled his unsmoked cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. "Just listen. Doesn't make sense. He wouldn't use his own fucking pistol to shoot me."

"Probably not."

"Where's Aria?"

Jellal nodded to a small office just north of the interrogation room. "In there with her mother."

"Her mother?"

"She's taking custody."

"She's an _escort_. At best. Kyouka's whore."

"Not according to her ROE."

"What?"

"Ultear told me she's saying she's been transcribing for the court."

Laxus peered through the foggy glass. "That woman in there is no fucking scribe."

No. She was not. She couldn't look _less_ like a scribe with the spider tattoo trailing down her neck below her left earlobe and the gnarly bruise on her wrist standing out in the harsh fluorescent light.

Superintendent Tores came around the corner, hands stuffed into his pockets. "What are you two still doing here? Cardinal's locked up."

Jellal straightened. "Sir…"

"All the most important paperwork's been dealt with. Go home. Get some sleep. You both look like shit."

"Can we talk?"

Tores slowed up. "About?"

Jellal checked down the halls, making sure that they were as empty as they could be so late in the night before saying in a low tone, "That woman in there isn't a scribe. She works out of Somnium for _Tante_ Kyouka."

"That's not how she reads," Tores said much less covertly.

"We _saw_ her there."

"Anyone can walk into that place. So what?"

Not just anyone and they both knew it. Jellal cut right to the heart. "Sir, I'd like to speak to Gray Fullbuster. He signed a confession but I think it was under duress. I don't believe he killed those women."

His brows knitted together. "Those are strong words."

"I think he's being threatened—"

"What's your proof?"

"I have none," Jellal admitted, "But—"

"This is an Internal Affairs matter now," Tores said. "You have no proof to back up your claim and we're sitting on a signed confession. The scandal's already big enough with the Captain as his alibi the night Laura Stone died. Leave it."

"But, Sir—"

His face got as blank as stone. "Evidence. Confession. Leave it, Fernandez."

Jellal took in a breath deep enough that his lungs hurt. "Yes, Sir."

"Go home."

"Yes, Sir." Jellal watched him until he wandered around the other corner then used long and fast steps to take him down the grey marble stairs to his car. Laxus was hot on his heels. It wasn't until they were inside, though, that Laxus said, "I might know someone in IA that could get us in to talk to Fullbuster."

"Sophie?"

"Yeah."

"You told me she was Crazy Town."

"She is," Laxus agreed. "She's still sweet on me, though."

Jellal started the car and put it in drive. "Sweet enough to bend the rules?"

Orange streetlight strobed in, breaking up the night. "Don't know. Maybe."

Jellal looked at him from the corner of his eye. "Thought you'd be all over this. Fullbuster was your guy."

"Never trust anyone that goes down too easy," Laxus replied. "They have something they're trying to hide."

True that. Jellal pulled his car into Laxus' driveway. They sat in silence for a moment. Still looking ahead, Laxus said, "Acnologia was going to kill us, wasn't he?"

"I think so," Jellal agreed.

"Crazy fucking city."

Yeah.

"Sophie doesn't start until ten. I'll call you if she's game."

Jellal didn't ask what it was going to cost Laxus to make it so. He didn't care. "We just have to get Gray to retract his statement."

They both knew it wasn't going to be easy.

"There's one way Tores would believe us."

"I don't want any more bodies," Jellal said.

"No. But it would throw some things into light." Laxus checked his gun before he shoved his door open.

"Want backup?" Jellal offered idly.

"Nah. Just a precaution."

There was nothing quite like being shot at.

"You can wait here like my prom date, though. See I make it in." He delivered it deadpan. Jellal laughed.

"Hurry up."

The door closed between them. Despite his blasé response, Jellal waited and watched the night as Laxus approached his steps. Did he think he was going to get shot in suburbia town? No. Not when Gray was looking good for it locked up with a neat bow and the real shooter was walking free. Careless made for careless mistakes, though.

His phone rang. Jellal answered it without checking the ID. "Yeah."

"You're alive," Erik said on the other end.

"I should be saying the same to you. After Dragon pulled you out of there, I wasn't sure." Jellal watched Laxus open and close the front door before he threw the car into reverse and got on his way.

Erik laughed nervously.

"He didn't want to punish you?" Jellal asked.

"I don't know. I haven't had much of a chance to talk to him," Erik replied. "He sent orders to get me out on some shitty make-work gig a little after you guys showed up."

Just when they started talking about drugs.

"Maybe he'll kill me. Maybe not. How do you feel about being my last phone call? Want to talk dirty to me, make it seem worth it?"

"Fuck off," Jellal said with a smirk that died well before it could really be born. "If you want, I can set something up—"

"This is my life, not sitting in a shitty safe house waiting for the wrong people to spot me," Erik said. "If Dragon's pissed I owed you a favour then so be it. Now listen, he was getting twitchy because he thought you were coming in to accuse him of being the Cardinal. He caught wind of your suspect's description—"

"We haven't released a description," Jellal said.

"I'm just telling you what I know. You should stay away from _Prodiguer_ and watch your back."

After a moment, Jellal sowed some seeds of his own and said, "I don't think it'll matter. We've got our guy in custody and Acnologia knows it." With any luck, if Acnologia believed that _they_ believed they had the right guy, he wouldn't get twitchy.

"It might matter. He won't like the insult."

Jellal sighed through his nose, knowing Erik could be right. He didn't pursue the matter, however, because when he turned into his apartment's parking lot he caught sight of something much more pressing loitering _again_ in his parking space. "I gotta go. Stay out of trouble."

"Yeah. You, too."

This time, she was sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest. There was a thinly rolled joint in her hand that she was so casually smoking, a spring storm's early gusts grabbing the smoke and her hair and twisting both in its passing. By his headlights, Jellal could see she was wearing what he would call working clothes, a small black dress with a red ribbon on the bust and red lace along the hem. It was too cold out for such, especially considering she didn't have anything over top of it. He could see her skin was lifted in goose bumps from her wrists all the way up to her shoulders and down her body to her feet. Feet which were trapped in a pair of tall, red strappy shoes that looked inappropriate for walking. How long had she been out there and how far had she come? By the way she didn't clutch her body or let her teeth chatter, he thought she might be too high to feel the discomfort.

He took off his coat before stepping out of his car and put it around her shoulders. She lifted her gaze. She'd done her makeup and her hair at some point that night. He wondered if it was for him or for someone else.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here, Erza?" He plucked the joint from her fingers. "With contraband?"

"Marijuana is where you draw the line?" she asked and took it right back. "There are worse things."

Yes, there was. "Sure."

"She politely asked me to take the rest of the night off," Erza said, jumping in that way only the fucked up could do.

Jellal filled in the blanks. " _Tante_ Alba? "Why?"

Erza wetted her lips. "There may have been a man."

Jellal was afraid to ask. "That did what?" _What if she needs help again?_ He'd probably give it.

"Nothing, really," she said to his relief. "I just… I didn't like the way he looked at me. I was halfway through when I told him to leave. And then _Tante_ Alba told _me_ to leave."

"Did she fire you?"

Erza shrugged in a way that was casual and infuriating and softened by dope. "I don't know."

Feeling foolish, he asked, "Did you want to come upstairs?"

She took an inhale off her joint and stood. She led the way without another word, trailing acrid smoke and sweet perfume.


	12. Chapter 12

Jellal watched as Erza dropped the mostly smoked joint in the ashtray on the stoop and then leaned against the wall to wait patiently for him to open the apartment door. There against the brick, she looked like a vine flower too long in the cold. She stared blithesomely and hollowly all at once. He wondered what she was seeing as she looked toward the glass door dotted with many fingerprints. What she was thinking. He wondered if he cared to ask. He wondered what kind of person it made him if he didn't.

He kept his mouth closed and unlocked the door. Erza proved she was more than just a rose vine gone wrong and detached herself from the wall. With a purpose and grace that was unique to her, she made for the elevator and jammed the button to go up. She'd stripped her nails of silver polish and replaced it with a coffee black. It wasn't an absolute colour, but Erza had, in Jellal's experience, never been a woman of absolutes. She was never absolutely truthful. She was never absolutely brave. She was never absolutely thankful. She was never absolutely scared, even when he thought she _should_ be. Someone had left her a morbid crown and she took to sitting in the dark, inviting danger.

She was foolish and so was he for admiring that about her.

The elevator dinged and she slipped inside. Jellal followed before the doors could close and lock him out. He jammed the twenty-fourth floor button and listened to the hum of the elevator, the gentle puff of Erza's breath. The silence between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. His mind kept running. Wondering. Wondering what she was expecting. Wondering what _he_ was expecting. Wondering why the fuck he didn't put her in his car and drive her somewhere. Like a motel with a door that locked where he could convince her to station men out front with guns and sharp eyes.

His answer was clear and echoed _Tante_ Alba's sentiments. He had a problem when it came to Erza Scarlet. Seconds passed. Erza shifted her weight from foot to foot, her heel _clicking_ gently on the elevator's tiled floor. She gripped his coat with pale fingers and clutched it tightly. It was the only tell she had that let him know that, true to form, she wasn't absolute about this, either. He went back to wondering if she was going to give him the same treatment she had those years ago. He dropped his eyes to his shoulder holster. His gun looked criminal there, not a tool to uphold the law but something to bend and break it when he saw fit.

_That's not how it was_.

_Was not._

The elevator slowed. Doors opened, depositing them in the correct hallway. Jellal went to his door and unlocked that, too, to Beau's abrupt bark. Erza didn't jump. It wasn't dogs or the dark that scared her.

The barrier disappeared and the Shepherd came barreling out, all fur and panting breath and high-pitched yodels that were both endearing and set him on edge. " _Sh_ ," he told her in an authoritative way that had her quieting and leaning into his legs. Jellal petted her thoroughly before ushering Erza inside. Erza was over the threshold when Beau went to her and gave her the same treatment. Erza dropped to her knees like she belonged there in his apartment and buried her face in Beau's fur while she gave the dog the attention it sought.

"I used to have a dog," were the first words she spoke.

"Want another?" Jellal asked half-jokingly, glad that the tense silence was shattered.

Erza lifted red-rimmed eyes. "You don't want her?"

"I do. I just don't have enough time." He went to the kitchen and poured Erza a glass of water without asking. Beau abandoned her and followed Jellal. On the fridge was a note that said,

_Grandma made shepherd's pie. I promise it's not poisoned. Share some with Beau. -Wendy._

It was there when he opened the fridge, sitting on the top shelf. Wendy had also taken it upon herself to clean out the sour milk and the eggs that had gone bad.

"She loves you." Erza's voice startled him.

At first, he thought she meant Wendy and her various notes (there was a pile of them by the microwave he'd yet to recycle,) then he realized she meant Beau sitting there patiently for her portion of the pie. "She loves food."

Erza's smile was edged with drugs. Soft and pliant and knowing.

"Are you hungry?" Jellal asked.

"Did I come up here so you could feed me?"

"I don't know why you came up here."

"Why did you invite me?"

He didn't know _that_ either. Without a good answer, he went to the cupboard and got out two plates and grabbed Beau's bowl from the floor. He filled up the plates first and set the microwave, then gave the dog what was left. She waited patiently. He set it down and then turned his attention to Erza again. She'd taken off those ridiculous heels and now stood barefoot, toes drumming out a beat he didn't think she was conscious of. Every few seconds she'd shiver. "Are you cold?"

"I don't know. Probably not."

"You're shivering."

"Just stoned."

The microwave beeped. Jellal took out the plate and gave it to Erza with a fork. "Here. Take this to the couch and eat it."

"You're not like the other men that want to pay me."

Jellal ignored her and put his own food in the microwave. She was a mess and he was a mess and together they were a big fucking pile of _I don't know what_. All he wanted to do was stuff his face with the best food he'd probably eaten all week, shower, and pass out. All he wanted to do was ask Erza what she was doing there. Take off her clothes and do things better this time. It'd be nice to wake up in the morning without a raging hangover. Without a dead body. Without the largest lie he'd ever told in his life hanging between them and his career on the line.

Erza turned from him and went to the couch and that was a fucking good thing because he was suddenly as mad in that moment as he had been that morning, just a few hours from dawn when he realized that the noise he heard was, in fact, a gunshot and his service pistol was missing from the gun holster that he'd carelessly thrown on the window sill.

He left the kitchen and went into his bedroom. It was one of the only places in the house where he'd managed to keep things running smoothly. The messiest spot was his bed, the navy sheets kicked down to the end. His closet was open, sure, but the suits inside, some gifts from _Tante_ Alba after she'd heard he'd made detective, some purchased with his own funds, were hung neatly from clothes hangers. His backup shoulder holster hung there, too, barely visible amongst the other clothes. Jellal looked to the top of the closet where his backup pistol lived in a metal case. He closed the door.

"I won't steal anything."

He jumped when he heard Erza's voice. He turned and found her again lounging by the doorway. Her hair rested over her shoulder, both curled and knotty, looking like spilled rubies against her skin. She'd lost his suit jacket somewhere. Her chest was red from the wind. Whether she'd felt it or not, she had been cold.

"It won't be like last time."

"No, it won't."

She smiled a little, taking that for an invitation, and crossed the room. Her feet were quiet on the carpet, her motions still lithe and calculated despite the drugs she'd been smoking. Jellal watched her right up until she was in front of him and plucking his shoulder holster. Her eyes were on his gun. And then her fingers. Jellal didn't know why he let her pull it out. He didn't know why he let her glide her fingers over the fired steel. He didn't know why he was sickly fascinated by the metal in her hands.

"I still think about the gun range," she said with her eyes still cast to the gun.

"Me, too."

She glimpsed at him briefly. "I had fun that night."

Jellal tried to see if she lied. She had been so good at it before. It wasn't a trait that just disappeared. He imagined that she'd spent many hours standing in front of the mirror, looking at herself, the bruises, the raised skin, telling herself lie after lie after lie, judging her delivery and muting all of her tells. If Kyouka was the Spider, Erza was the Liar.

_And what are you_?

The fool.

Erza set the gun on the dresser. Jellal breathed easier. Not that the state lasted long. She went back to touching him and like before, his lungs felt like they were full of holes. He couldn't get any air and every breath he _did_ manage to gasp in felt inadequate. "This isn't why I invited you up."

"This was my favorite part. Taking off the guns. The holsters." She spoke like she didn't hear him and worked the body-warmed leather from his shoulders. Jellal let it happen. He let it happen even as he told himself _not_ to.

"I remember."

Her lips curved gently; her eyes locked on his. It was that small quirking smile that let him know that even if he'd fooled himself, he hadn't fooled her. She was always a step ahead. Right now, she was taking a step back and fishing a black phone out of her bust. Jellal watched her warily. A moment later, a woman's voice poured quietly out of the speaker. She set the phone beside the bed and faced him again.

"I'll get you a shirt to wear. I probably have sweatpants, too," he offered in a last ditched attempt to deny her.

With a genuine grin, she hooked her fingers beneath the shoulder straps of her dress and pulled. The material was stretchy enough that it came over her shoulders without much fuss and over her bust. The only place it got caught was on the generous swell of her hips. "You're the only man I've ever had that's offered me sweatpants."

Jellal kept his eyes on hers. "I'm the only man you've ever had that's known your worst secret."

She didn't flinch and cover herself like he hoped beneath his cutting words. She said, "You're the only man I've had that knows it and has invited me in again." Wiggling got her hips free from her dress. Material dropped to the floor and she was bare. The last time he'd seen her like this, there had been cover-up on her skin blurring out deep blues and purples that had rotted to green. He hadn't known it then. Not at first. It wasn't until they were washing away the blood that he'd seen the bruises. And then he'd understood.

She'd never asked him to lie.

She never had to.

Music competed with the sound of her getting on the tired mattress.

_(In the land of gods and monsters,)_

"You used me, Erza."

( _I was an angel.)_

"People use people all the time."

( _Living in the garden of evil.)_

"Is that supposed to excuse it?"

_(Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed.)_

She pushed her hair over her shoulders, totally baring herself. He wished she wouldn't. "Come here."

( _Shining like a fiery beacon.)_

"Erza—"

_(You got that medicine I need)_

"Do you want me to say thank you?" She adjusted herself so she knelt, legs spread. Her hair was back over her shoulder again, not listening to a thing she told it.

( _Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly.)_

"Because if that's what you want, then thank you." She touched between her legs.

( _Put your hands on my waist, do it softly.)_

"I want to give you a sweater," Jellal said (defiantly? He hoped.)

( _Me and god we don't get along, so now I sing.)_

"Come here."

His feet moved. He'd thought about this a thousand times in a thousand different ways. He thought about kissing her. He thought about screaming at her. He thought about saying nothing at all. He thought about using her as mercilessly as she'd used him. It should have been easy. He didn't know the real Erza Scarlet. He knew the woman she'd introduced herself as. He knew her for a _night_. Intimately. And then in passing through a series of statements and then after, as he begged first _Tante_ Alba to take her in, and then Erza, who claimed she had nothing in this world, to go.

He was standing at the bed and she was holding him away, her fingers pressing into his solar plexus. She searched his eyes. Looking. Looking.

"What do you see?"

"The constable that taught me how to shoot a gun."

"I'm not as naïve as I was then."

"But you're still that man," she said with surety. And then, "You just don't let him control you any longer."

"Did _Tante_ Alba tell you that?"

"In a way." She started pulling at his tie.

"Do you expect me to pay you?" Jellal asked.

That was the thing that slowed Erza down the most. She looked up at him again as the tie came undone. She wetted her lips. And then started working on his shirt. Jellal told himself to press her. To find out what that silence _meant_. Yes, no? Did he _care_?

"You're not going to shoot anyone?"

"You're not going to lie about it?"

His bare skin was beneath her hands now.

_(I don't really wanna know what's good for me)_

What else was there to do? Touch her hair. It was as knotty as he thought, getting stuck between his fingers. She didn't flinch and he didn't apologize; his words had disappeared. She used her tongue and hands to make his head an emptier cage.

_(God's dead, I said 'baby that's alright with me'.)_

He'd really believed she was an escort in those days.

Not a woman running from an abusive relationship.

Not a woman who could run no more.

She'd spent hours lying to herself in the mirror. And then she'd spent hours lying to him.

He'd given her the means to exact her revenge. And then he'd covered up the crime.

When he tried to kiss her, she turned her face away, something she hadn't done before. He didn't try again, not sure if it was wise. She took him from his pants and showed him just how skillful she'd become. Jellal forgot about dinner and his exhaustion. It could wait.

* * *

The sun was creeping on the horizon, and Mira was tired. She felt it in her bones and in her mind. Zeref, like Laxus, wasn't like other men she was with. They weren't different in the same way, no. Unlike Laxus, once Zeref looked at her, she knew he was rotten to the core. She knew that his smiles never met his eyes. She knew that they never had.

He was asleep, one hand tossed over his head, the other resting on his stomach, red sheets tangled around his feet and coming to rest just on his hips. Though he was flaccid now, the sheets hid very little. A worm of excitement moved through her _despite_ the tiredness, that part of her that liked the _thrill_ of perilous things couldn't deny that she liked being with Zeref in the same way that she liked being with police officers. They were both dangerous men, those of the law and those lawless, and it seemed that she never could get enough danger. Maybe she was fucked up.

Maybe she didn't care.

It was a fascination that had begun as a teenager, just after _the accident_ —that's what Lisanna's doctors called it—and hadn't let up since. It helped her feel alive, she supposed, if she wanted to psychoanalyze herself. But who the fuck wanted to do that?

She liked it. It was fun. And that was that.

She closed Zeref's door silently and tiptoed down the hall, her shoes and her purse in hand. Though it was dark, she'd done this more than once and mostly knew the way. Really, though, the manor was large and tricky, full of twists and turns and places to get lost. She turned left and then left again, thinking that would take her to the front exit. It took her to a large, aquamarine pool that glittered in the fading starlight, the retracting roof open despite the cold bite in the air.

Looking through the clean glass, Mira realized that there was someone in the pool. His head came out of the water for a breath before he dived back under and she realized that it was her brother, mercilessly swimming laps. He worked out when he needed to feel alive, she fucked men with the means to kill her if they wanted.

She sighed and reached for the door.

"Hello, Mirajane."

Mira's heart lodged in her throat. She didn't scream as she turned, though. She smiled. She'd been doing this for too long now to let an emotion like fear make itself so easily known.

Rahkeid, like the aquamarine water, was aglow by the dimming starlight. His light hair was pushed back from his face, showing off that ghastly tattoo. Mira used to pray when she thought it would change things for Lisanna. They remained the exact same and she decided that she and God had nothing much to talk about. Just the sight of that cross made her want to scowl.

"What are you doing here?"

Mira found her voice. "I was visiting with your father." She could never tell if that upset him or not. Dude was a blank fucking slate, save for his holier-than-thou smiles and his _pray to me_ 's. She never did. It was a wonder why he still hired her at all. That being said, maybe it was _because_ she refused to pray to him that he continued to hire her. He probably got some weird kick off of not being able to cow her into praising his virtue and calling him God.

"Are you finished now?" he asked.

"Yes. I was just about to head home."

There came that beatific smile. "Where's home now, Mirajane?" It was easy to imagine him pressing dead palms together and tipping stiff necks toward the heavens, wiring them that way so the women were always praying. "I'd like to take you there." He touched her cheek and she had to fight not to recoil. There was a thrill in that, too.

_You're definitely so fucked up._

She couldn't help it.

"Father says you're working at the Prayer." A zealous light came to his eye.

"Rahkeid…"

"Mm?" He was close enough that she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Does the blasphemy bother you?"

He pushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear and leaned in so he was just centimeters from her mouth. "The sinning is almost as good as the begging for forgiveness. Will you beg for me?"

"I won't."

"You're my favourite sinner, Mirajane."

She could hear Elfman splashing just meters away. If she looked, she'd see he was doing a butterfly stroke, pulling himself through the water at an unparalleled speed. She didn't dare take her eyes off Rahkeid, though. "Excuse me."

"I'd like for you to come upstairs with me."

"I'm really tired, Rahkeid."

He took her hand anyway and started pulling her away. Mira dug her feet in. "I'm not joking. I'm not working anymore tonight. I—"

Another figure filled the end of the hallway. Mira's throat got small, cutting off her words until he spoke and she recognized Natsu Dragneel. "Let her go, Rahkeid."

Rahkeid's hand disappeared. "Yes, uncle."

"And leave." Rahkeid's mouth opened in what Mira was sure was a complaint. Natsu spoke over him. "Now. You're my brother's son but don't think that means much to me."

"Yes, uncle." Rahkeid moved past him, head still held high like he was somehow still _dignified._

Mira let out a breath and pushed her hair back from her face. "Thank you."

Natsu only said, "You should be careful, Mirajane. I hear the Cardinal's targeting girls like you."

He started away; Mira called him back. "Natsu? Have you heard anything? About the Cardinal I mean." He had connections that even Zeref didn't. While people were afraid of the eldest Dragneel, people _liked_ Natsu. They liked the way he sat around poker tables playing game after game, throwing away his money because he wasn't very good but he liked to socialize. They liked that he was quick with a laugh and quicker to draw the ever-present huge Colt revolver that he kept on his hip if anyone crossed him wrong. That gun was a relic. She'd asked him about it once, he told her that Zeref gave it to him when he was a kid. He learned to target shoot with it and never parted with it since. That made sense; if you were good with a particular thing and it wasn't _broken_ , though it was scratched and marred, why replace it?

"I've heard plenty. All of it heresy."

"How do you know?"

He said, "Just watch yourself, Mirajane. Your connections don't make you invulnerable."

She looked back over her shoulder to where Elfman was getting out of the pool. She was sure that's who he meant. She tried for clarification but by the time she looked back around, Natsu was gone. Mira sighed and entered the pool like she'd originally planned.

Elfman looked up from where he dried, turning his head just enough for her to make out the tattoo on his neck. It was one of the first bits of artwork he had put on his skin when he joined Zeref's winning band of criminals but it wasn't the last. He was slowly covering himself. He wasn't afraid of giving people a means to identify him by. Anyone that could identify him to the police ended up dead or suddenly unable to speak.

"Hey, Mira."

"Hey." She strummed up a weak smile. It was the best she could do when she was faced with all of the things that tore her brother away from her. His split knuckles. The guns that sat not so far away from the pool's edge. The tattoos. The hardness in his eyes.

"You want me to drive you home?"

"I want you to come with me to the hospital," she said casually.

Elfman was suspicious. "Why?

"So you can see Lisanna."

He got closed off in a blink. "I can't, Mira."

"I told you, they have her on better medication—"

He shook his head. "It's not that." Even though it very much _was._ "The cops are looking for me."

"You told me they were always looking for you and it didn't matter."

"Yeah. I did."

"Then—"

"I had a job in Somnium the other night that didn't go quite as planned." He scrubbed the towel through his hair and started toward the change room. "Just gotta lay low for a while."

Though she hardly felt able to ask, Mira said, "Elfman. What did you do? Did you hurt someone?" He was always hurting people. ' _I like my job_ ,' he'd said to her. He must.

"Just keep yourself out of it and you'll be fine," came his flippant reply. "Get your stuff together. I'll drop you off at the hospital but I can't go in."

She would get no further with him. "I have everything I need."

"Then stay here. I'll be back in a minute." He pushed open the change room without waiting for her reply. Mira lowered herself down onto one of the benches and tipped her head back. She busied herself with studying the cross on the brick wall over top of the door leading back into the manor. It was an ugly little thing all twisted up in thorns. She couldn't seem to get away from either.

* * *

It was too early to be cramming his face with a cranberry muffin (and honestly, why the _fuck_ was he? Cranberries were an abomination but it was the muffin the coffee shop had left in the tray), just like it was too early to be pulling into the police station, especially after his long night. Sleep, even _after_ he'd come home and deflected his grandfather's nosy questions and put the old man to bed, had been elusive. He kept thinking about the parking lot in Somnium, about the gun going off. About the truck that peeled out of the driveway. It could have been Gray's Sierra. It really, really could have. And he _wanted_ it to be because that was what made sense. He'd be more willing to buy it, though, if it _hadn't_ been. If Gray had been more careful. If the gun he'd used just… disappeared. Blooms River ate plenty. Guns, knives, bodies, sometimes even cars.

This was too neat. Too tidy. And Superintendent Tores and the Captain were just… okay with it? It didn't add up. Someone was being lazy and he wanted to know _why_.

He parked his car, chewed and swallowed the last bite of his muffin, then braved the glaring sunlight. Even before he took his eyes off the puckered concrete and looked at the front doors, he knew that there was a group of reporters loitering. He could hear them. His marginally good mood was quashed in a breath as one of them called,

"Detective Dreyar! Congratulations closing the Cardinal case. Can I get a statement—"

Laxus deked around the young girl with short black hair waving a microphone in his face. "No."

She was relentless. "Rumor has it a Detective Gray Fullbu—"

Laxus verily pushed her microphone out of his face. She nearly dropped it but recovered last second. Luckily. "Detective Dreyar—"

And there were more of them, too. A tall reedy man. A stout one with a pen and paper. Some flashes of a camera. So many voices. At the top of the stairs was a man that was more than a little familiar. Jude Heartfilia waited with his hands clasped in front of his bellybutton. He unhooked them when Laxus jogged up the stairs and took Laxus' hand without his permission.

"I'd like to personally thank you for aiding in the speedy capture of my daughter's murderer, Detective."

Laxus murmured something that could have been a 'Just doing my job' and rudely pulled out of the man's grasp and rushed inside the building.

The morning light wasn't so bright in here, the wood was too dark, the floors, to let much of the sunlight escape. He tore off his sunglasses and blinked until his eyes adjusted. As soon as he was able to see again, he started down the dreaded hallway toward Internal Affairs, feeling like a criminal for even considering bribing Sophie. And then feeling like a fucking idiot because he wasn't kidding when he told Jellal that she was batshit fucking crazy. She used to call him at one in the morning just to talk because she was worried that he was sneaking around on her. He was _working_ and she _knew_ that. She'd get really pissed, though, when he'd hang up and turn his phone off so she couldn't call him incessantly. It got so bad that he had to get the Captain to tell her to back off. And then he got an earful about interoffice relationships.

"Dreyar."

Speak of the devil. Laxus lifted his eyes and found Captain Milkovich leaning against one of the ornate bannisters on the second story, her dark hair both stylized and gleaming in a rod of sunlight. He wasn't fooled by her _look-good-and-genuine-for-the-press_ outfit or makeup.

"Get up here," she said simply.

Seeing no way to refute her, Laxus altered his course, making for the polished wood steps instead. They were so old, they creaked beneath his feet. This part of the station was the original building and had been standing for close to a hundred years. It had received several expansions since then and the city always managed to sort of match the architecture, but the newer segments just didn't have the kind of character this part of the building had. It was likely in the scuffed floors and woodchips that told a thousand tales of their own.

Ultear didn't wait for him to finish mounting the stairs before she went into her office. Laxus followed and closed the door, too, knowing that look she had on her face. He tried to mentally prepare himself for a skinning.

"Yes, ma'am?"

She dropped herself in her chair and folded her panty-hosed legs. Her mouth pursed. In this light, he could see the very fine lines around her lips and her eyes. Stress. She had a few silver hairs tangled up in that raven's wing weave of hers, too, not that he'd be stupid enough to point either out.

"Stay away from Sophie."

Laxus dropped himself in the chair across from her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She gave him a no-bullshit stare. "You're going to IA to harass Sophie. Don't."

Laxus laughed. "Why would I go—"

"Listen to me _carefully_. I don't know if this was your idea or Jellal's but we have a signed confession. Leave it alone."

Laxus dropped the act. "That signed confession means nothing."

"It means that he killed those women," she hissed. "It means he shot you in Somnium's parking lot. It means he's _guilty_. We have our killer, now stop trying to douse oil on the fire when it's dying down."

"I don't know why or _how_ but he was pushed into it."

"Detective—"

" _Captain_."

"He signed a confession."

"So the fuck what?" _That_ earned him a scathing scowl. Laxus kept going. "He's not stupid. You know that. If he was going to shoot me and try to get away with it, I hope he'd do better than that."

She pressed her fingers into her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "I know."

"Then _what_ is happening? Why did you just let him take the fall?"

She took her hands away. Beneath her makeup her eyes were bloodshot. She'd had some long hours, too. "Mister Heartfilia is putting a lot of pressure on us. Someone leaked to him that Gray confessed before I could tell him to be _quiet_ and he's been running his mouth to the papers. It's _everywhere_. They're _everywhere_."

"So you're trying to save face? An innocent man is going down and you're in here worrying about our reputation?"

"It's not so _easy_ ," Ultear snapped.

"Looks pretty easy from where I'm standing," Laxus said. "Tores said to leave the case. I want to keep investigating."

"Laxus—"

" _Captain_."

She looked like she wanted to hit him.

He kept talking. "Aria's with her mother now, who's a clerk if I'm a fucking priest, and our killer's on the loose. Give me the greenlight and Jellal and I will catch this guy before he kills again."

"I can't greenlight you."

"You _won't_."

Her lips disappeared.

He played on her heartstrings. Really, it was a charm Jellal was better with but he gave it his best shot. "If you won't do it for one of your officers, do it for Aria who's watching her mother be Kyouka's whore in Somnium."

Ultear closed her eyes and rested her head back on her chair. "She was never supposed to get Aria."

"What happened?"

"Kyouka has some friends in high places. Bisca went missing last night just after Gray was pulled off his shift and arrested. They found Aria at home by herself. It wasn't very hard for her mother to get custody after that, not when she had all the right papers."

"The nanny disappeared?"

"She's probably dead," Ultear said. "She was supposed to get Aria out of there if anything went bad, but…"

"If you can't give us the go ahead, just look the other way," Laxus dared to say. Jellal was Ultear's favourite but he hoped that she'd feel inclined to lean his way just a little. "We'll do things quiet and get it wrapped up tight."

"Laxus—"

"He's going to kill again."

"He'd be a fool to. Not when a man's sitting in a cell that's meant for him."

Laxus pulled out Meredy's bullshit. He listened sometimes. "He's probably telling himself that right now but you know as well as I do, he's sick. It won't be long until his compulsion to kill overpowers him and he strikes again."

The only thing she said was, "We have a backlog of cases since you two have been on the Cardinal. One of Black Dragon's lackeys was gunned down just south of the station last night. Maybe take up that one. I have a feeling it might be enlightening."

Laxus took his dismissal when it came. As he stood, Ultear said, "Stay out of IA. And stay away from the press. I'm handling it."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Erza stared numbly out of the bedroom window, studying bars of golden light as they blazed through a lingering fog and spilled on the ground. She could feel Jellal behind her body, breathing softly. His breath buffeted her skin and left trails of goosebumps in its wake. The blankets were somewhere down near the bottom of the bed. She'd thought to grab them at some point during the night but the thought had slipped on exhaustion and she'd excused it completely. Now she was as cold as Jellal had accused her of being last night. She let herself stay that way as she stared resolutely at the glass smeared with a dog's nose. Surprisingly, it was that and not the man's hand resting languidly and _casually_ on her hip that told her this wasn't where she belonged.

Not that she _knew_ where that was.

It just wasn't _here_.

He was right, she had used him. And then she'd used him again to prove to herself that she wasn't _broken._ She could be with a man without being repulsed by the way he looked at her. She wasn't all violence and lies and little thought.

Was _not._

His breathing changed. Erza kept staring out the window, even when he lifted his head slightly and saw that her eyes were open. She wondered if he'd try to kiss her again.

He did not, though his lips hovered at her shoulder, close enough that she could feel their soft brush. His fingers marred the feeling, trailing from her wrist to her elbow.

Erza broke the silence. "Five hundred."

Jellal slowed like she'd hoped. He did not stop touching her, though. "Is that what _Tante_ Alba's going rates are now?"

"They're mine. I likely won't be asked to share my cut with her." Not after last night.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Jellal offered.

Erza felt her brows twitch together. The look was wasted on the window. "I don't need any more help."

He let it go and kept touching her. Erza let it happen, feeling both prickly and hungry for more. She'd been surprised that she liked his touch on her skin those years ago. The surprise hadn't dulled. She tolerated men touching her most days. Jellal didn't make her flinch; his hands didn't remind her of others that had left marks on her skin.

His fingers trailed up to her shoulder and then down between her breasts. She shivered despite herself and kept shivering when his touch terminated on her hip and he grabbed a handful of her behind harder than she'd been expecting. It didn't hurt, but it didn't leave her much room to misconstrued what he wanted.

"You can't afford another session."

"I could if you charged less." His mouth finally met her shoulder. His teeth scraped her skin.

"That would be doing myself a disservice."

"You sound insulted."

"I _am_." She refused to look at him, even when he lifted himself up on his elbow and hovered over her. He kept touching her and she kept doing nothing about it, his fingers seeking between her legs, stroking until her shivering had very little to do with the chill that had befallen her skin. He kissed her shoulder again, and then her collarbone. She waited for him to come for her mouth. Half hoped so she could tell him to fuck off. Half hoped so she could see if she could stomach a man's mouth pressing into hers again.

Jellal only moved on down her chest, kissing the topmost swell of her breast and then the rose capped peak. His tongue was hot. He didn't spend too much time lapping like some men did, he took it into his mouth and sucked until her breath caught, and then moved on down the line, getting to her ribs before his phone rang.

Jellal stopped and looked back over his shoulder, for which Erza was grateful. She was unused to the way her body hummed for a man. He took his hands from her and she felt even better. While he fumbled his phone to his ear, Erza arduously crawled out of bed. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Beau poked her head up from her overstuffed dog bed beside Jellal's dresser and promptly took Erza's spot. Erza snatched up her dress from the floor and shook it out, then made for the bathroom while Jellal spoke in muted tones.

She kept her eyes away from all of the things in there that made it _his_. The white towels with the sailor's anchor stenciled into the fabric, the matching shower curtain, the razor left haphazardly on the sink and the toothpaste tube that was squeezed from the middle. He was a careless man, always too busy for his own good.

When she came back out dressed once more and glanced into his bedroom, he was doing up the top button of a pair of black slacks. "Do you need a drive somewhere?" He barely looked at her, which was just fine by Erza. It made her feel like this was just like any other house call she'd done (never mind that she _never_ did house calls, they weren't safe as far as she was concerned. The _Tante_ 's had security for a _reason_.)

"I'm fine."

Jellal glanced at her fleetingly. It looked like he had several other things he wanted to say. He bit them all back. Without another word, Erza showed herself out. It wasn't until she was teetering down the street in her heels again that she realized she hadn't taken any money from him.


	13. Chapter 13

So early in the day, the hospital was relatively quiet, the parking lot a ghost town with no more than fifty cars in the painted spaces. Mira sat in the passenger seat of a brand new Mercedes with an oversweet latte in her hand and looked at the sun rising over the sparsely treed horizon. "Won't you come in with me, Elfman?"

His answer was simple and absolute. "No."

"But she misses you."

Her brother was a blank slate save for the little twitch his eye did whenever he was annoyed. "You already told me that."

"And I'll _keep_ telling you that until you get it. She doesn't even _remember_ what happened."

"If she doesn't remember, why does she have nightmares about it, huh?"

Cut but not down, Mira said, "She'll have nightmares whether or not you visit her. Just come in, okay?"

"I already told you no."

Mira recognized that hard-as-iron look in his eye and sighed. "Well… what about this job Zeref and Acnologia had you doing?"

"What about it?"

"I don't know. What about this man that's going to jail? Maybe you should just tell the police—"

Elfman turned and looked at her head on. His eyes had never looked colder. She remembered when he used to smile. That was _before._ "Why would I _ever_ go to the police?"

"Because it's the right thing to do?" Mira suggested, not as (openly at least) intimidated by his severe expression as he had hoped.

"Don't know if you know this or not, but that's not really my wheelhouse anymore, Mira."

"What happened to you?" Mira asked disgustedly.

Elfman closed down. "Tell Lisanna I said hi."

Mira threw open the door and got out. "Her brother would tell her himself."

She didn't really expect Elfman to get out of the car and follow her inside. It still stung, though, when he cranked on the motor and pulled out of the parking space, jamming his foot down hard enough that the engine revved noisily.

She walked fast through the bitter morning air, hoping that the movement would keep her eyes from tearing. It only half worked.

Inside the hospital, Mira went from cold to sweating in a blink. The black leather coat gifted to her by Zeref was worth a pretty penny, warm and comfortable. He'd bought it on a whim last night before he'd taken her to dinner, seeing that it caught her eye. She had mixed feelings wearing it. It was nice and it was warm but…

_Don't feel too bad,_ she decided, _because he bought it, you have more money for Lisanna's treatment and more money for school._

She didn't even want to think about money just then. What did _Tante_ Alba think of her absence? She'd just started at the Prayer. She had worked _one_ _night_ and then she'd taken off. She pulled out her phone. The battery was still dead; she didn't know why she bothered. Just to stress herself out, she supposed.

There was no Detective to ride the elevator with her this time. It was a shame, being in there with him distracted from her visit with her sister. It hadn't been a _bad_ visit. Not really. Lisanna hadn't relapsed and remembered everything in startling detail as she had the last time Elfman dared to step foot in the hospital, but Mira could see that for Lisanna, the memories lurked just under the surface, always pressing, looking for a means to come out and swallow her whole, as they tried to do to Mira.

Sometimes, Mira thought she'd never forgive her brother. It was his friends, after all, that supplied the drug that had changed their lives forever, and it was Elfman, in a fit of rage, that had come out and bloodied them, nearly taking their lives with the help of an aluminum baseball batt that _clunked_ dully every time it met with bone. It was Elfman that lurked in Lisanna's addled mind, twisting from man to beast as he beat the men that first got her so high on K that her body wasn't giving enough oxygen to her brain, and then tried to take her clothes off. The shred of forgiveness Mira _could_ part with was gifted to Elfman because it was he that had called an ambulance and kept her from dying that night.

Sometimes, when Mira's guard was down, a small voice in the back of her mind asked, _Is this really the better way_? _What if Elfman never interrupted and Lisanna never woke at all?_ Mira hated herself when those thoughts came. All she had to do was go spend a few hours with Lisanna to know that it would never be _better_ if she never woke up. It would be _easier_ , but that wasn't the same thing. _Was not._

She supposed the whole experience had made her smarter. She stayed away from drugs as best she could, though they surrounded her, pressed in on her from all sides, chased her down and hounded her, even in her sleep. Too many people used when they visited with escorts. It'd been worse since she started at the Prayer. Cocaine was everywhere and it didn't feel like other drugs she'd tried. It didn't make her sleepy or dull. It changed _everything_ and nothing all at once—and she'd only ever dropped some on her tongue. By some means, she was both disgusted and fascinated with drugs, loved and hated them for their destructive potential. Obsessed in the same way she was obsessed with dangerous men. She _liked_ being watched by vipers.

The elevator doors opened, saving Mira from the spiral that was her own kind of psychosis. She navigated the Psychiatric Ward with a kind of ease that was disheartening. It had been three years since Lisanna was admitted. It felt like _forever_. When it first happened, the doctors told her that Lisanna could probably go home in a couple months. That was before she started hurting herself and the people around her. It was expensive to keep her there but Mira didn't care. School could wait, this was more important.

In the room that had been Lisanna's for only a year (they moved her around occasionally, depending on how much money Mira could donate to this) her sister sat on a mattress thicker than most and doodled in her sketchbook. She looked up when Mira entered, mouth splitting into a smile that was red like cherries. To look at her like this, she looked _fine._ Normal. Even if her scarred arms _were_ visible, she just looked like an eighteen-year-old girl that had taken a few wrong turns.

"You came, Mira."

Never mind that she came _every_ day. "Sure I did." Mira unzipped her jacket and revealed the dress Zeref had purchased for her last night: short, black satin embellished with white spiraling designs. It, like the jacket and the shoes he'd bought to go with it, was too expensive.

"Are you going to school like that?"

Mira ran her hand down over her front. "No." She laughed and didn't think Lisanna read through the awkwardness. There were lots of social cues she didn't get now. "I just had dinner last night at this disgustingly fancy place."

"With a man?"

"Maybe." Lisanna didn't know about Mira's profession of choice and she wasn't in a huge rush to tell her, either.

That was a social cue Lisanna didn't misconstrued. "Was he handsome?"

Mira came to sit on the bed beside Lisanna, glancing only briefly at the horrors she was twisting out onto the page with her pen's end. "Handsome enough." If you liked your men cold and hard and unforgiving.

Lisanna was more cautious asking, "What does Elfman think of him?"

"Seems like he likes him," Mira said just as cautiously.

"Where is he? Elfman?"

Mira was still mad enough at her brother that she honestly considered telling Lisanna that he refused to see her after the last time. The only person that would really hurt, though, was Lisanna. She lied. "He works a lot. He said he misses you, though, and he wants to come see you." She knew he did. She could see it when she looked at him.

"Does he still like to hurt people with batts?" She asked the question all the time. Today, as she did on occasion, she looked not scared but sickly fascinated.

_'I like my job.'_ Mira could make a career out of lying. "Elfman never wants to hurt anyone. You know that."

Lisanna's smile was mean and sad and thankful. "That's not true. He likes to hurt people all the time. I saw it. And I liked it, too." Her pen was biting through the face of one of the beast's she'd drawn and her nails were cutting so badly into her palm, if they weren't clipped short, she'd be bleeding. They were getting hazardously close to dangerous territory.

"I have a test today," Mira blurted to distract.

It worked. "A test?" Lisanna wondered.

Without batting an eye, she smiled and lied, "Yeah, Lisanna, a school test. I was going to tell you, I have to leave a little bit early today, it's a pretty important one."

The pen eased on the page. "You get your badge?"

"Not yet."

"But soon?"

"Yeah," Mira said. "Soon, Lisanna."

"And then you're going to bring it in and show me?"

"Of course I will."

"People will call you Constable Strauss?"

"I guess." Mira started to relax; Lisanna did, too.

"Tell me about it. What kinds of things will be on the test?"

Mira lied and lied and told herself that it was alright because soon enough, it'd be true.

* * *

Atrocity was a word to describe something catastrophic. Something largescale and appalling. It was a word Jellal knew Laxus slung at cold coffee without shame so it was with mixed feelings that he sucked back a cup of iced coffee through a straw, half enjoying the way his partner winced every time he looked at him, half wincing himself because, seriously, _why?_ He did all kinds of things to keep himself alert. Chewed caffeine pills, ran ridiculous kilometers to get his blood flowing, drank cup after cup of hot coffee. It was only when he'd had a half-decent night's sleep, missed his workout regime and was semi-alert that he forwent the caffeine pills and the armada of coffees and just stuck with a single cup of iced coffee. The coldness woke him up. The detestation assured that he drank it slow to milk every last ounce of energy from it.

"I didn't even _make it_ to IA," Laxus groused from behind the wheel of the Tahoe. "She has like, extra sensory perception or something."

"Or she just knows you," Jellal replied around the straw in his mouth.

Laxus gave him another offended look. "How can you _drink_ that?"

"Watch the road," Jellal replied as they ran a yellow light and almost hit a cyclist trying to get across last-second.

"He should be watching where he's going," Laxus said but _did_ pay closer attention.

"What'd she say when you asked to keep going?"

"Usual bullshit, ' _I have a confession, leave it alone._ '"

"To which you said…?" Jellal asked, testing the waters. He knew how willing _he_ was to keep going behind Ultear's back to get the truth, he wasn't sure how dedicated his partner was to risking his career.

"I didn't say much of anything, but if you're asking if I want the truth, yeah, man, I want it."

Which is what he thought. "How did she seem?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, is she going to skin us for poking around or…?"

"She was distracted. I think she knows that we're not just going to let it drop," Laxus said. "I think if we're quiet and we're thorough, we can do some investigating without her axing us."

"All this over Jude Heartfilia," Jellal mused.

"Guy's a menace. He _just_ left before you showed up and only because Milkovich told him to leave. Have you seen the paper?" Laxus asked.

"Nope." And that's the way he'd like to keep it, too. Whatever was in the papers was irrelevant. The Captain would do what she always did and make sure that the public had enough information to satiate them while keeping all of the most important and crucial tidbits private. She was a master at the craft of information manipulation, as most people in positions of power were.

"It's a shitshow. You think the Cardinal knew who he was killing when he stuck it to Lucy Heartfilia?"

"I don't think this guy does much without thought," Jellal mused.

Laxus let all of the air out through his nose and flipped on the turning signal. He took the corner too fast; Jellal almost spilled his iced coffee everywhere. He saved it last second, not wanting today to be one of _those_ days. Instead of bitching at his partner like he _felt_ like doing, Jellal redirected his focus to the crowd surrounding a pub called _Harriot's._

Laxus mimicked Jellal's thoughts. "You think people had better things to do than gawk at the dead."

"Not a chance." He had his seatbelt undone before Laxus had the Tahoe in park. He brought his coffee with him as he stepped out into the warm sun and cut a pathway through the crowd. Lots of people looked his way, took in his trench coat and sunglasses and just _knew._ Some asked him questions that he didn't answer, some just stared. Jellal bent below the police tape without issue and made his way to the alley between the pub and a sushi place and thusly, to the two lumpy white sheets. Crime scene techs were there and had been for some time. It looked like they were nearly done.

One girl, small and thin with red framed glasses and a head of messy bright hair looked up from where she scribbled on a notepad. "Detective Fernandez."

"Hi, Levy," Jellal greeted as Laxus came to stand at his elbow. "What do we have?"

"First victim is male, early thirties. Second is female. Mid-twenties. The guy's Acnologia's for sure. Keloid scars on him. Both were shot at close range, though the woman looks like she was shot with something a little smaller. Could be two separate killers."

"Wait, I thought there was only one victim?" Laxus asked.

Levy looked behind her at the two bodies. "Last I checked, there's two there."

Jellal moved on before Laxus could get testy with her. "Robbery?"

Levy shrugged. "Maybe. The woman was missing her wallet but still had her jewellery. We don't have an ID yet, but I'm sure we will soon."

"May I?" He motioned to the sheet.

"If you don't mind the vultures trying to catch a peek," she said.

It was a risk he was willing to take. Crouching, he tugged up the corner of the sheet and immediately wished he hadn't.

"What?" Laxus asked from above.

Jellal sighed. "Her name's Kinana Venenum."

"You know her?"

"Something like that." Jellal dropped the sheet and went to the next, feeling very, very tired. It was with mixed feelings that he revealed the man's face and saw not Erik as he suspected, but some nobody with keloid scars like Acnologia's men liked to decorate themselves in. Levy was right, the deceased was certainly one of his.

Jellal stood and found one of the first responding officers. "Did anyone see it happen?"

"No, Sir," answered the woman.

Laxus' expression soured. "I'm getting really sick of dead-end cases."

"I don't think this qualifies. Come on, I think I know where we can get some answers but we have to go now," Jellal said and cut back through the group of onlookers. This time, those that weren't brave enough to ask him questions before peppered him with, ' _What happened?'_ and ' _Do you know who the killer is?'_ and the most dreaded of all, _'Is this related to the Cardinal case?'_

He broke through the crowd and felt like he'd come up for air. When he held out his hand, Laxus handed him the keys without question and got in the passenger seat. Surprisingly, he waited with uncharacteristic patience while Jellal put the car in gear and started pulling away. Then, when they were on the road travelling toward one of Erik's favourite safe houses, Laxus said, "Well?"

"The guy that was watching for us in _Prodiguer_ last night? Erik? That girl was his partner. Acnologia knew that he was watching for us. I _suspect_ this was his way of getting back at Erik."

Laxus puffed out his cheeks. "Fuck, eh? So buddy shoots Erik's girl and then Erik fills him in for it?"

"Looks like. I talked to Erik last night. He said Acnologia had been mum about the whole thing. I guess this is why." He tried not to feel _too_ guilty, for all the good that did him. _You offered protection_. And Erik said no. He might have been singing a different tune if he knew that Kinana was in the Black Dragon's sights. " _Fuck_."

Laxus didn't try to say anything to lessen the burden, for which Jellal was grateful, it helped remind him why he did what he did when things got murky and the path seemed obscure. He liked the puzzles and the challenge, sure, but justice should have a seat front and center.

* * *

Erik's favourite hideaway when things got tough was in plain sight. In Magnolia's largest church, Kardia Cathedral, at the highest peak, in the oldest bell tower, was a room made of rotting brick and powdering insulation. It was a section that had been cordoned off _years_ ago for renovations. Its continual abandonment had very little to do with the church's ability to fund such an upgrade and everything to do with Erik's close friendship with the priest, Father Buchanan.

When Jellal pulled into the parking lot, he almost pulled right back out again, seeing Jude Heartfilia there on the church's step, cloaked in black, smoking and talking to the Father. "Lucy Heartfilia's funeral is today?"

"Yeah," Laxus replied. "Paper's said at three."

Jellal checked the dashboard. It was two fifteen. Despite the urge to pull back out and avoid Jude, he parked the Tahoe. In the rear view, he watched Jude disappear into the church. The priest was about to follow but focused on the car and kept himself stationary on his stoop, only moving when Jellal dared to poke his head out.

Despite his size, Father Buchanan was across the parking lot quickly, his black robe blowing in what was shaping up to be a cool spring breeze. His red hair was tied back in a low horsetail, wrapped so it didn't have the chance to be unruly. In the old days, he used to wear it free. That was before silver threaded it. Somehow, he looked more respectable with it pulled back. Less like a man that had pulled triggers and more like a man that fingered through tomes emblazoned with golden crosses.

"Jellal."

"Father," Jellal said, though Richard was impatient with the term most days.

"He's in the tower, mourning her death."

It seemed neither priest nor Erik was as ignorant as Jellal hoped. "Thank you."

The man grabbed Jellal's arm before he could get past him. His fingers were strong and looped with rings. For a man that was supposed to live modestly, Father Buchanan didn't play by the rules very well. Even his rosary was gold and pearl, ornate and beautiful, yes, but ostentatious for a Man of God. Sometimes, Jellal thought this was a front. Richard Buchanan had made a lot of enemies being _Tante_ Alba's enforcer. Who would ever dare to kill one of God's priests, though? Only someone without an ounce of superstition. Jellal thought even he wouldn't be brave enough to pull the trigger unless he absolutely needed to.

Father Buchanan said, "I took his gun when he arrived. What should I do with it?"

Jellal wanted to say ' _Drop it in the Blooms and forget you ever saw it_.' What he _did_ say wasn't much better. "I'll deal with it if I need to."

He didn't need anyone's help deciphering Father Buchanan's look: of course, he needed to. There was no way Erik was going to be without blame. He opened his mouth to say as much. Jellal pulled away from him, partially because he didn't want to _hear._ "Get ready for your service, Father. I understand there will be a lot of people here shortly."

"How do you know him?" Laxus asked immediately when Jellal was free and crossing the parking lot.

"He used to work at the Prayer as well."

"He did?"

"As one of _Tante_ Alba's guards." Jellal looked up at the cloudless blue sky. It seemed too bright for a funeral. When had nature ever obeyed arbitrary things like sadness, though? "He quit a few years before I did and became a priest, said he'd found god in the Prayer's halls."

"Sounds like he found too many drugs to me," Laxus said.

Could be. Father Buchanan's footsteps were sheathed in shadow, for sure.

Jellal went to the back of the church and gazed up at the winding and rusty outer stairwell. It wasn't visible from the road and there was nothing behind the church but rolling and dead-gold farm field. It was quiet and peaceful. The perfect place for a convict to hide.

"Why's a priest hiding one of Acnologia's lackeys?"

"They were friends," Jellal said, hoping he could just glaze over the whole thing.

No such luck.

"How?"

Jellal sighed and started mounting the stairs. He was half afraid his foot was going to go through one of the rusty metal grates—a fear that only grew as Laxus joined him and the whole ensemble groaned. "Erik used to work at the Prayer, too."

"Like, how you used to work at the Prayer?"

He thought of Erik in _Tante_ Alba's drug room, her personal alchemist. "Not really."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He wasn't going to let it go, Jellal could see that. "He used to mix for her, alright? He got out of the trade when I did. Or he was supposed to. _Tante_ Alba wanted him to go legitimate, too, but Erik…" Some things were bred-in-the-bone. His penchant for this life was one of them. "It's hard to get away. The last time we really talked, he told me that he dropped out of school because Black Dragon offered him a lot of money. He paid back _Tante_ Alba for the Pharmacy program she enrolled him in and never looked back." As far as he knew anyway.

Laxus fell quiet, seemingly satisfied with that explanation. That was just fine for Jellal. He watched the ground get smaller and smaller. He wasn't afraid of heights. He had a healthy fear of falling, though, as any regular person might. He was cautious with where he placed his feet and took the steps slowly, meaning it made for a long climb. It only got colder. He considered doing up his coat but didn't just in case he had to get to his gun quick.

_What are you expecting_? He didn't know. Erik was a good guy to have at your back in a pinch, sure, but sometimes… he was a little squirrely.

Still twenty metres from the top, Jellal unclipped his gun _just in case_. Laziness never benefitted anyone. He heard Laxus doing the same. When he was ready, he closed the rest of the distance with steps that were neither as light or careful as they had been. He didn't want to startle Erik.

At the top of the stairs was a small platform. Up there, three hundred feet off the ground, wind grabbed at his suit and at his hair, trying to tug him over the rusty railing. "Erik?" he called before entering. Father Buchanan said he'd taken Erik's gun, but what did that mean for a guy like Erik? He always had guns on him. Hell, he probably had a stash up here, too.

"Erik, can you hear me?" A raven took wing from the spire of the tower and buffeted them with its shadow. Jellal adjusted his grip on his gun and reached for the door when there was no answer. He looked back to Laxus to make sure he was clear. He was leaning against the railing, gun pointing down but ready. Jellal tugged the door back with authority. The wind grabbed it out of his hand and did the rest of the work for him.

Jellal announced himself again. "Erik, it's Jellal."

He waited a second then dared to poke his head around the doorframe and see inside. The room in the very top of the spire was shadowed and breezy, wind whistling through porous boards. Finding Erik was easy, he stood by the single window, the board blocking its face torn off and thrown aside. He gripped the windowsill with one white-knuckled hand. In the other was a small snub nosed revolver. His shoulders stiffened but he didn't bother turning around.

"Erik."

Beside Jellal, Laxus adjusted his hold on his pistol, sweaty palm audibly sticking to the grip. Jellal glanced at him briefly, trying to determine Laxus' state of mind. He was wary but not ready to do anything rash. Good.

"What are you doing here, Jellal?" Erik asked the horizon.

Jellal moved cautiously over the old, creaking boards. "Come to say sorry about Kinana. Ask what happened."

Erik's mouth twitched humorlessly. "Come to ask if I know who her killer was?"

"Was it that guy you laid low?"

"How do you know it was me, Fernandez?"

"Not too many people like .45's, especially if they're trying to conceal."

Erik snorted. "Look at you. Still the smartass. Yeah. I killed him. But he wasn't her killer."

"Then why did you shoot him?"

Erik said, "Because he bothered me."

While Jellal didn't put that kind of crass behaviour past Erik, he wasn't buying it. "Come on, man. Be straight with me."

Erik looked at him from out of the corner of his eye. "You bother me, too. You always have."

"Hate me while you talk."

After a moment that was filled only with the sound of the howling wind and a raven's squawk, Erik said, "He was keeping lookout. Before I killed him, I asked him about it. He said he was told to stand there and make sure no one interrupted, unless it was me."

A heavy feeling came to Jellal's stomach that he didn't much like. Despite his reticence to continue asking questions, he did anyway. "Who was he watching for?"

Erik heaved the largest sigh. "I don't know. I got a call from this guy just after I hung up with you. They told me Kinana'd been shot and put the phone up to her. She wasn't dead like I thought. First I was glad, you know? But then she started crying." His voice was amazingly emotionless. "Guy told me it was the first time he'd killed like that. Usually he took his time, had them first. Tied them up and wired them like puppets."

"It was the Cardinal?" Laxus interrupted.

"You're calling him that, too?" Erik asked numbly.

Beyond Erik, Jellal watched through the window as a black Hearst took the bend in the road. Lucy Heartfilia was in the back of that car, all of the wire removed from her skin, the ligatures and the scrapes left behind by dog rose covered up by thick and pale makeup so that in death, she looked morbidly perfect.

"What then?" Jellal asked.

In profile, Erik's nose curled. His fingers flexed. "He said that he'd shot her in the gut outside _Harriot's_ and he was watching her bleed out. It wasn't as fun like that, he said, but this punishment for helping you was a favour to an old friend. He told me to come get her then told me if I called the cops, he'd know. When I begged for an ambulance, he said if I did that, he'd treat her exactly like he treated the others and so far, she only knew what it was to get shot not—"

He didn't finish. Jellal felt sick. He tensed when Erik lifted the hand that held his gun. He only used it to wipe his face.

"So I went. When I showed up, she was lying in the alley by herself, bleeding out. Way I saw it, it was too late to do anything else but what was humane." He said it with a derisive snort like it was supposed to be humorous. No one laughed. "That guy showed up—the one watching the alley. I think it was to put me down, too. I was ready, though."

"How do you know he wasn't the Cardinal?" Laxus sounded hopeful.

"He wasn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because he fucking killed my girl, okay? I know," Erik said. "He spoke and it wasn't the same guy from the phone." He squeezed the gun's grip again and Jellal understood that they were going to have to deal with that sooner rather than later. He took a step forward.

"Come on, Erik."

"Come on and go where?"

"Back to the station." Because there wasn't anything he could do now. Murder was murder and there was only so much he could keep off the books.

"So I can rot in a cell?"

"Law's the law."

"You used to know better than that."

Jellal took another step toward him. "That's not true. I was always _Tante_ Alba's golden boy, even when I was watching for cops." Back in those days, Erik had torn him apart for it.

Erik's mouth quirked like Jellal hoped. "You were always the fucking golden boy, weren't you? I hear you're still the favourite even after all this time. What's asshole taste like?"

"Must be good if I'm still kissing it." He took another step toward Erik. He didn't imagine the man didn't know what he was doing. "I tried telling you that."

"Yeah. I wasn't ever really into that, though. First sign of cash and I was gone. Maybe I was stupid. That old broad really wanted us to be better, huh?" After a moment, Erik said, "I don't want to go to jail."

"You shot someone."

"I've shot a lot of people, Fernandez. You know that. Not anymore, though." He lifted his gun to his temple and cocked the hammer. Jellal's feet felt useless. He was too slow in taking the next step.

A gunshot rang out, loud in the bell tower. Erik crumpled. He was not silent because he was not dead. A fluid line of impressive curses left his mouth as he sat up and clutched his calf where Laxus shot him. Jellal came unglued and went searching for the Colt the man had dropped. He found it against the wall not so far away, looking benign once more.

"What the fuck?" Erik was spitting venom. Laxus wasn't listening. Jellal let him take over reading Erik his rights while he wondered if they did him any favours. Erik loved Kinana. She was the only thing he had. And now she was gone. What good came from a man that had nothing left to lose?

* * *

The sun was misleading, for while it blasted the world as vigorously in the afternoon as it had in the morning, Erza stood in Kardia Cathedral's parking lot and shivered in her black trench coat and dress. The shoes she wore were some of her most modest, the heel short and stubby. Her feet were cold, just like the rest of her. She wished suddenly and blithesomely that she was stoned again. Everything had seemed very far away then. She'd probably even get away with being red-eyed at the funeral; people would think she was crying. Maybe, being stoned, she could even keep herself from that.

She watched almost numbly as the police cars gradually started to funnel out of the lot. The police had made quick work of their investigation, sure, and while there wasn't _much_ to do, there was still a few hours' worth of work. More than once she'd heard voices murmuring about postponing the funeral until tomorrow, but Jude Heartfilia was a man that was devout with his plans. This was the day his daughter was to be buried and that was that. Hell had seen no fury quite like Mister Heartfilia's.

Erza saw Detective Dreyar first as he came around the side of the church and knew Jellal would soon follow. She prepared herself for the moment she saw him, feeling foolish for being nervous and even _more_ foolish for not asking him for her money. The feeling slid away when his eyes locked on hers. She stood beneath his gaze even as she felt it pick her apart. He looked at her the same way now as he had when he was on his knees, drunk. She thought before it was because of the tequila and not much else. Now she decided that he was just a fickle man, obsessed with her as others were.

She stuffed him in that box even if the lid didn't fit.

A shadow fell on Erza before she realized she had company. "Hello." His voice was deep and familiar.

She took her eyes away from Jellal and studied the man beside her. His hair was stark and neatly tied back, his suit expensive and clear of any spec of dust.

"I didn't think we'd see each other again. _Tante_ Alba said that she dismissed you last night."

Erza licked her lips and tasted the ruby lipstick she'd smeared on her mouth. "Yes."

"I wanted to let you know there're no hard feelings."

Out of the corner of her eye, Erza saw Mira climb out of a Magnolia Taxi in a dress that was almost identical to her own. Her platinum hair was curled neatly and her makeup was bare-minimum—lipstick, mascara, foundation. First, she felt anger, but couldn't deny that she was glad to see Mira. She was okay.

The man beside her still spoke. "That's your partner there, isn't it?"

"Yes," Erza said absently.

The man _hummed._ "I was thinking… if you were open to the idea of rescheduling, this time with your friend—"

" _Tante_ Alba likely won't invite me back to the Prayer," Erza said. She kept her eyes on Mira as she hurried across the parking lot, purple phone in her hand. Her eyes moved from Erza only for Laxus. She visibly wavered before getting the Detective's attention as he crossed to a large black Tahoe. Erza was close enough to hear Mira ask him to call her later. She said it was important when Laxus glanced their way uncertainly.

"The Prayer isn't the only place people do business."

No. It was not. _It's not safe._ Even as Erza thought it, she wondered _so what_? She'd given up actively hunting men. Sure. Part of her craved it, though. It had felt _good_ to punch Dan. _You don't let that part of yourself control you any longer._ _You don't. You don't. So stop trying to lure out the evil in others._

On the other hand, she had to work and she wasn't sure if any bordellos would hire her now, not if she was fired from the Barrel _and_ the Prayer. Doing freelance work might be it from here on out. If she had Mira with her, things were less likely to go sour.

"I'll think about it," she said to avoid answering. Mira was crossing the lot again, coming for her.

The man took out a card and handed it to her. She barely read it. "When you come to a decision, you can contact me here." He pulled away from her side. In his absence, the wind cut through her coat once more. Erza shivered until Mira came up beside her and took her arm.

"Who was that?"

"A potential customer," Erza replied. "I'll tell you about it. Let's go get a seat."

"Sure."


	14. Chapter 14

"You know why the devil always gets so many hapless souls to sign away their lives?" Laxus asked idly.

"Do tell," Jellal replied.

"Because no one likes paperwork. Look at this." He thumbed through the stack of _'I shot someone so now I have to write a report a mile-fucking-long'_. "You know what? I quit. It's not actually worth it." Between this paperwork and the shit he had to sift through at Somnium, dropping the pen and walking out the door without his badge or his gun seemed like a damn good plan.

"No you don't," Jellal said from his own stack.

"Easy for you to say. I have three inches here and you have two."

"No one's ever said that to me before."

"Like hell," Laxus murmured. Jellal didn't take the bait. He went back to complaining. "I'm hungry."

Jellal looked up from the hollowed out image of a man on the page and met Laxus' eyes. "You know why I'm going to quit?"

"Neither of you is going to quit," Ultear said in passing. "Hurry up, your boy's waiting in interrogation for you."

"Captain," Jellal started. "Can't this wait until _after_ —"

Ultear's laugh was short and without mercy. "No." She was mad, that much was clear, and stressed.

"Erik's statement could be a big step toward discrediting—"

She skewered him with a look that was very hard to ignore. _Not here_ , that look screamed. Jellal ceased speaking.

Laxus scribbled his signature on the final page and handed it over before Ultear could get too far away. "Ma'am." Across the aisle from his own cubicle, Jellal's glare tried to slice Laxus anew.

"Thank you, Dreyar." Ultear's smile was cold. She twitched away, pencil skirt hugging her hips. Laxus looked; not for too long, mind you—he really did think Ultear had extra sensory perception and he wasn't a _fool_. Maybe she'd be a good lay, wouldn't be worth the headache that would come after, though.

" _How_ are you done?"

"I just did one of them," Laxus reminded his partner. "I skimmed over most of it."

Jellal grumbled.

"Shoot more people or get shot more, man, and you can be just as fast as me."

Jellal's middle finger looked the same as ever.

"You want something from the vending machine?" Laxus offered around a grin.

"Something sweet," Jellal replied, going back to his report once more.

Laxus stood and navigated the cubicles, counting out the change in his pocket as he went. At the vending machine, he grabbed himself a bag of roasted peanuts and Jellal a bag of candied ones, though he imagined when Jellal said 'something sweet,' he was thinking more along the lines of 'rot-your-teeth-Skittles.' He ate sugar when he was stressed. Watching one of his Prayer buddies almost put a bullet in his brain undoubtedly crossed the line into SweetTown. He was going to be pissed when he saw the candied peanuts instead. That was fine; Laxus thought of it as payback for Jellal sucking back that disgusting cold coffee.

On his way back to his desk, he crossed paths with Superintendent Tores, the man with his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets, a thoughtful expression on his face. Laxus said, "Sir."

"Dreyar."

Though Tores didn't slow, Laxus asked, "How was the funeral?"

The man turned his back and walked backward toward the ancient stairs. He never tripped, knowing the station as well as any old hand. "As miserable as you might expect. Mister Heartfilia got up there and praised us, though, which was a surprise after that drama in the bell tower delayed its start for so long."

That was a relief. Laxus tried to think of a way to ask him his next question. Before he could figure out how to be diplomatic and subtle, Tores had turned around on his shining leather shoes and jogged up the stairs. Did he ever tire? Half a century old and he was just as spry as ever.

Laxus turned away when the Captain's office door closed, locking her and Tores inside. By the time he returned to his desk, Jellal was signing his own report with that chicken scratch he called a signature. "Does the Captain ever give you shit for that?" Laxus asked.

"Nope."

"You know, your buddy was right. You eat too much asshole," Laxus griped as he handed Jellal the peanuts. Predictably, Jellal's nose turned up. "They're good for you," Laxus said.

"Thanks, ma." He opened them and stuffed a handful into his mouth anyway. While he chewed, he grabbed up his paperwork and his notepad.

Laxus said, "Erik still declining a lawyer?"

"Yeah."

That was good. Lawyers complicated things. Nosy. Always telling people to shut up. "You think your pal's going to be able to give us something solid on Acnologia?" Laxus asked while Jellal got to his feet and juggled his report and his peanuts.

"Dunno."

"He might be able to give us something on _Tante_ Alba, you know," Laxus said as casually as he could master.

Predictably, Jellal's gaze sharpened. Laxus expected a _'That's not very relevant, is it_?' but instead got, "I guess we'll see." They stopped by the Captain's office on the way to the interrogation room. Tores was still in there, sitting in the seat opposite Ultear, his hands laced over top of his head while they talked. Jellal dropped his report in her inbox instead of interrupting and then they were on the move again.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Laxus mused.

"Cardinal," Jellal answered without a shred of doubt. "When I told Ultear what Erik said, she looked pissed."

"Tores doesn't look like he gives much of a fuck."

"Nothing fazes him."

No. He didn't like mistakes the same way he didn't like unsolved cases.

Laxus tugged out his key card and swiped it over the interrogation room's lock. It clicked open, allowing them entry. The room was as dingy as it always was, smelling of sweat and faintly of cigarette smoke. Laxus felt a pang in his chest for one that he mostly suffocated by touching the cigarette he had tucked up over his ear. It was sweaty and wrinkled now, probably no good for smoking, but it was the _illusion_ that it was there if he needed it that made his age-old addiction go dormant again before he decided that he was too cranky and needed to get a fix.

Erik didn't bother twisting in his chair to look at them. When Laxus threw himself down in the seat on the opposite side of the table, he pretended like he didn't notice that Erik's eyes were red-rimmed just like he pretended that the seat beneath his ass was _comfortable_.

Jellal was less willing to ignore the feels. He dropped a handkerchief down before he sat; Erik just stared at it. Laxus thought in his position, he probably wouldn't take it up either. He was stubborn like that.

"What am I doing here?" Erik asked. "Shouldn't I be in a jail cell or something?"

"Sure," Laxus replied. "But we need to talk about the Cardinal." He took a tape recorder from his pocket and started it. Erik looked at the small machine warily.

"I don't know anything about him."

"Can you just tell us again what you said in the bell tower?" Jellal asked.

"I don't remember that," Erik replied.

"Come on, Erik," Jellal said. "A guy's sitting in a cell right now because he signed a confession saying _he_ was the Cardinal, but _you_ told me that he was out wandering around. That he called you. That he shot Kinana."

"I don't remember that," Erik said.

"Erik—"

_"What?_ " he snapped. "Let me level with you, Fernandez. I'm about to go to jail. Your ' _Cardinal'_ is fucking around here in the police force, making innocent men sign confessions. Now let me ask you if he has that kind of sway here, is that going to go away in jail? I'd like to get through at least a couple weeks without someone trying to kill me. I can imagine however they think up how to do it, it's not going to be nice."

"There're worse things that can happen there," Jellal said.

"Not selling your case," Erik replied and Laxus couldn't help but agree. "Can you guarantee that I won't be fucked up in there? Because that's the only way I'd ever consider talking. If I had something to say."

Laxus puffed out his cheeks. "We can ask for solitary confinement in exchange for everything you have to say about the Cardinal _and_ —" because if it was worth it to Erik to bargain, he might as well go big, "Whatever you can tell us about Acnologia."

Erik's laugh was dry and crackling. "That's good. Solitary confinement isn't going to save me from Acnologia. His fingers reach far."

"Alright," Laxus said. "Maybe we are going a little too grand, eh? How about _Tante_ Alba. You were her chemist I hear." _That_ earned him scathing looks from all sides. Jellal was biting back hard on something and Erik was shifting his gaze between Jellal and Laxus.

"The old lady's been nothing but good to me," Erik said finally. "Wouldn't feel right, selling her out. Besides, it's been so long since I've stepped foot in the Prayer, probably wouldn't be able to tell you anything useful."

"I'll be the judge of that," Laxus replied, purposefully avoiding Jellal's gaze. "You might as well talk, Erik. You're going away regardless. Why not give up some information that could save your life, huh?"

Jellal finally seemed to find his voice. "You're talking to the man that tried to put a bullet in his head."

Laxus tried to see the angle Jellal was attempting to work and could not. Unless, of course, his partner was trying to skip right over any information that might get his benefactor in trouble. He couldn't fucking believe it. It seemed Jellal couldn't either because as soon as the words were out, he looked disgusted with himself.

"I need a coffee," Jellal spat into the silence and got to his feet. The door slammed.

"Doesn't want to betray her, huh?" Erik asked with a frigid smile. "I thought being his partner you should know that by now."

"Fuck sakes." Laxus stood and jammed _Stop_ on the recorder. "Stay here for a minute, Erik. We'll continue this."

Erik lifted his handcuffed hands. "Wouldn't dream of going anywhere else."

Laxus tugged open the door and came out into the station. It was cooler out here, smelling less of sweat and smoke. He sucked in a lungful of air while he eyed the crowded station, looking for his partner. His eyes fell first on a man with a bag of mail, a brimmed hat pulled over his pale hair. Behind the man was the lunch room. And there was Jellal, standing at the counter with his forearm resting on the overhead cupboards, supporting his weight.

Laxus sighed and shoved past the mailman and then Tores. "Where's the fire?" Tores asked. Laxus murmured something like an apology, more interested in asking his partner _what the fuck_ instead of playing politics.

Jellal didn't look up when Laxus came into the kitchen. Laxus put the counter at his back and crossed his arms. "The fuck was that?"

"Needed something," Jellal dodged. He had a cup in his hand that he didn't do anything with, though he looked at the carafe.

Laxus kept his voice low. "Bullshit. If you had a problem with this, you should have said so _before_ we went in. I told you what I was thinking and you kept your fucking mouth shut."

"What am I supposed to do?" Jellal retorted. "I can't just—"

"Yeah. You can," Laxus said. "You know the Captain's going to ask if we grilled him on his Prayer days. You know she's going to want to hear yes. Fuck, even _Tante_ Alba probably wants to hear _yes_. She wouldn't have sent you on to be a cop if she didn't prepare herself for this."

Jellal's cheek indented as he chewed liberally on it.

Laxus thrust his fingers through his hair. The pomade he'd used to slick it back earlier was all coming out. "Listen. Erik probably doesn't know anything anyway, right? That old broad's smart. You think she'd keep her store rooms and shit the same after she let him go unless she _wanted_ to be caught?"

"No."

"No," Laxus agreed. "But it's our job to _look_ , right? We can't start turning blind." If he did, he'd end up like his father and that was something he wanted to avoid very, very much.

"We shouldn't be talking like this," Jellal said after a moment.

"Nope," Laxus agreed. "Are you going to do your job or are you going to stand in here?"

Jellal filled up his cup along with his lungs. "Let's go."

Together, they came out of the kitchen. The din in the station made all of the conversations blur. It was busier than ever this afternoon, or maybe people were just talking about the funeral. Half of the city showed up. Laxus wasn't sad he missed it. He could skip the sad-soup and ride the high of catching the bad guys and be _fine_. More than fine.

Still twenty metres from the interrogation room, Laxus was confused when the door popped open. It wasn't a feeling that lessened when the man in the mailman's uniform stepped out, hat pulled down so low, his eyes were covered. The door swung shut behind him and he started toward the exit with long, ground-eating steps.

A bad feeling settled in Laxus' stomach. "Hey!"

The man picked up speed.

"Fuck. Check on Erik," Laxus said, though Jellal was already heading that way. Laxus broke out into a run. "Hey!" Several eyes turned his way. He pushed past an officer, the dispatch guy, Captain Milkovich and a petty drug dealer that had been, until a second ago, arguing viciously with the officer dragging him back to the holding cells.

"Stop him!" Laxus yelled to an officer by the front door. The officer stepped in the way; the man lifted his elbow and used it to clear his path. He was so fast for his massive size, Laxus almost missed the altercation. The officer went down in a wash of red while their mailman dashed on.

The outer door opened so violently beneath his hands that the hinges groaned. Laxus didn't slow as the door bounced back; he put his shoulder down and pushed it aside with just as much force. He reached, fingers brushing the man's shoulder. The man swung around, fist raised. The punch would have hurt more if it was delivered with knuckles instead of the fat part of the man's palm but _still_ , Laxus was both surprised and momentarily breathless. His grip slipped. The man ran faster, gaining some distance between them.

A cruiser pulled in at the front of the building and yet another officer stepped out.

"Stop him!" Laxus hollered.

The officers looked confused for only an instant before they moved to carry out Laxus' demands. The runner didn't hesitate to tug out his weapon and to aim it with startling accuracy. The first bullet he squeezed off hit the officer closest to him in the chest. The next got the other man in the shoulder. Both went down. Laxus tugged out his own weapon.

"Stop! Get on the—" He threw himself behind the cruiser when the man open fired. The metal beside his head clanged and dented. A quiet second went by. He dared to peek over the hood of the car just in time to see their running man throw himself in a shitty, rusted out Ranger. He looked for plates as the small truck pulled away but couldn't find any. "Fuck!" There was no _time_ to waste on that, though. He checked the officer nearest to him. The man was dead. Laxus could see the other one from beneath the cruiser. He rolled and groaned as he tried to apply pressure to his own wound. Laxus got to his feet and tugged out his phone for an ambulance.

* * *

The drink was so sticky sweet that Erza couldn't taste the liberal amount of alcohol Mira had dumped into it. She didn't sip it; she drank it back with the kind of vigor of one who had spent many nights doing such. She was an old hand, used to drinking before her husband came home from one of his double shifts because she knew that those were the nights when he got most volatile. If she was drunk she was numb. On the other hand, if she was drunk she was more likely to say something to set him off.

Then again, _everything_ set him off on those nights. She used to think to herself _it's okay because he isn't like this usually._ When he was nice he was so amazing in every way.

When she very rarely looked back upon that time, she did it with the thought that she let it go on for as long as she did because she was so young. Still in college, swooning under the eye of the ER nurse she'd been assigned to.

She used to wonder what it was she was _thinking,_ first when he invited her out for dinner and then when she was laying in his bed. Every night she'd wonder until finally, a year had passed and she decided that she'd had _enough_.

She used to like planning. Parties, get-togethers, dinners. Murder hadn't been any less fun.

Even playing the part of the ingénue had been _invigorating._

It wasn't until _after_ she pulled the trigger that she wondered if she'd made a huge mistake. Death, after all, was so _final_.

It was that constable that had solidified her resolve, though, when she'd been on the cusp of spilling everything to the police. He'd seen the bruises; his mouth had gotten hard in a way that it hadn't been before. She thought at first maybe that was his hitting face; maybe she'd have to show him, too, that she would no longer be a mat, but he'd only said, "This is what we're going to say." And together, they planned out the deception. There wasn't much time. He called it in and the police were on their way. They kept it short and simple. All of the best lies were kept that way. Erza told her part without flaw. Jellal wasn't bad, either.

"What are you thinking about when you get far away like that?" Mira asked from Erza's back. She had that soft-toothed brush in her hand again and was meticulously threading it through Erza's hair.

"Killing men," Erza said candidly. Maybe it was the drink that made her loose-tongued.

Mira stalled. "Why?"

"Because some think they can hurt us," she said. "And I'll never let that happen again."

"Again? Like with Dan?"

Erza couldn't bring herself to correct her. She liked Mira best when she was at arm's length when it came to personal matters like these.

When she _still_ hadn't figured out something good to say, Mira asked, "Or is this about the man at the funeral?"

Was it? In a way. "I've been thinking about doing freelance work. I'll understand if you don't want to, but it'll be safer if we're together."

If Erza could see her face, she'd see how Mira was visibly torn. "Freelance work is illegal."

"I don't know if another bordello will hire us."

"I think we should try before we agree," Mira said.

"Are you afraid of being caught?" Erza wondered.

"It's what got us fired from the Barrel," Mira said cautiously. "And… I don't know if I can risk getting in trouble with the law."

Erza squeezed her drink. She wanted to get mad. She wanted to yell. She said, "He wants it to be both of us. The guy from the funeral. And… he is a Lawman, Mira."

"He's a cop?"

"Yeah." She was sure of it.

That didn't put her at ease like Erza thought. "Then he's trying to lure us into a situation where he can arrest us. Working without a bordello backing you, doing your physicals—"

Erza knew the rules. "Are you honestly going to tell me that you haven't been doing the same fucking thing with that detective?"

Mira stopped brushing her hair. "It's different."

"Why?"

"Because I know him."

"No, you don't."

"I know that he doesn't want to get caught by his Captain," she responded. "I know that he'll keep it a secret."

Erza sighed and drank the rest of her long island. She immediately wished she had more. "Just think about it. I know you want to start making money again and so do I." She heard the brush land on the barren dresser. Erza hadn't bothered unpacking anything except what was absolutely necessary; she didn't think they were going to be there for long.

"I'll think about it." She came into view, going to her bag and pulling out one of her favourite white dresses.

"Where are you going?" Erza asked. "It's late."

Mira didn't look like she wanted to admit, "I'm going to meet Laxus Dreyar at the Saffron Motel."

It was so easy to be furious. She breathed and breathed and asked in an even, (and hopefully sultry) voice, "Does he want company?"

Mira glanced at her quickly before shucking off the shift she'd stripped down to after the funeral. "We didn't talk about that. I'll ask him tonight, though," she promised. "Maybe next time…"

The anger was getting harder to ignore. Erza turned away from her. "Alright."

"I'm sorry, Erza."

"It's fine." It wasn't really. "Just think about what I said. I think this new guy can pay well."

"Sure." Mira's fingers brushed over her shoulder seconds before her mouth did. A chill rolled down Erza's spine, tainted by her bad mood.

"Be careful tonight." She wasn't so angry that she didn't want Mira to be safe. "Bring the knife."

"I hate that stupid thing," Mira said.

"Bring it anyway."

"Yeah."

Erza listened to her get ready and thought about her own plans that evening.

* * *

Jellal didn't drink. Not typically. Not with any _regularity_ or conviction. But as he jogged down the dark street with Beau, pushing both her and himself past what was comfortable, he wondered if he shouldn't forgo the physical torment he was putting himself and his dog through and just get fucking shitty drunk.

He never would, not without someone to get shitty drunk with him, and Laxus was busy doing whatever it was he did with himself when he said he couldn't go out, and Wendy was still a year too young. Turns out, he didn't have anyone else.

"Pathetic," he panted and ran harder.

Another two kilometers at a brutal pace brought him near the Prayer. It was there, at the old church's stone and brick _Prayer_ sign that he propped himself up and vomited in the ornate rose bushes. There wasn't much in his stomach. Bile. He panted with the old brick digging into his palms and a thorn pressing hard into his cheek and closed his eyes. He heard Beau drop herself to the ground. She was good at long distances, sure, but the time was coming where her fur made it hard for her to push like they did in the winter. Jellal looked out of the corner of his eye and saw her sprawled out on the sidewalk. He _also_ saw several people give him a wide berth.

Not _Tante_ Alba, though.

"I should charge for the cleanup of my gardens," she said in her thickly accented voice. Jellal was panting too heavily to respond. She didn't require it of him. She came up beside him and placed a dampened cloth on the back of his neck. "You push yourself too hard, Jellal. And your dog. Stop being irresponsible."

He wondered how she knew what he needed; not too hard, mind, because he _knew_ she had eyes all over the city, but enough to wonder if she watched specifically for him.

"Will you come inside, clean your mouth?"

Jellal took the cloth and wiped his face, gasping out, "No."

She touched his forehead with long fingers tipped with neatly trimmed nails, unafraid of the sweat. Her bracelets winked, gold bright in the streetlights. "Just as well. Men that grieve are men that do stupid things. I am sorry about Erik."

Jellal wondered if he had it in him to vomit again. He'd seen plenty. Sure. But walking into that interrogation room and seeing all that mess on the table… after he walked away because he was having a moral crisis? _Erik's dead because of you_.

_He wanted to die_. As far as Jellal knew, he could have _invited_ his killer into the room with his 9mm and his silencer.

His gut told him that yes, while that was a lie, it was no secret that Erik wanted to die. He would have been dead hours earlier if Laxus hadn't shot him. Jellal had wondered every minute since then if suicide wouldn't have been a kindness but now he didn't have to wonder anymore.

"You needn't feel guilty." _Tante_ Alba read him like a book. "All men live and die. Erik's time had come. He knew which path he trod."

"Did you know he'd go to Black Dragon back then?" Jellal asked on a whim.

"I suspected he might. The Dragon had been sniffing around Erik for as long as he was mine."

"Why did you let him go?"

"The same reason I let you go. You're too good for this place, Jellal. As much as I'd like to keep you." She brushed his hair back from his forehead again.

Feeling young and vulnerable again, Jellal confided, "Erik told us that the Cardinal was the one that killed Kinana but now that he's gone… we don't have anything. The Captain won't release Gray Fullbuster, not on the word of a dead criminal and everyone just goes on thinking that the guy's behind bars. It's not right."

"When I dreamed you'd be a policeman, Jellal, I imagined it would be so harrowing. But I knew you'd never be satisfied without purpose. You will catch your killer." She sounded so sure. "Listen to me now. You look too hard for the man you seek. The moment will come when you realize he's right beneath your nose. Men like these… they're obsessed with their own work. They'll never be far."

The way she spoke made Jellal ask, "Do you know who it is?"

Her fingers slid through his sweaty hair. "I am no detective."

Jellal wiped his face again just as a cold breeze cut him through to the bone. "Dragon asked what you said when I asked if anyone suspicious came through asking for good quality drugs."

"To which you said?"

"The truth. You've been uncooperative."

Her smile was both sad and sharp. "Take your dog home, Jellal, someone told me a troublesome redhead was spotted wandering in that direction."

Jellal didn't know whether to smile or groan. _Neither, just go brush your teeth and shower_? he thought blandly. "Come on, Beau." The dog picked herself up off the ground. She was still breathing heavy. Jellal walked the rest of the way home, his feet and leg muscles aching with every step.

* * *

A cool breeze tugged at the white dress Mira wore, making her question her wardrobe choice. She pulled her short green canvas jacket tighter around her waist and walked faster through Magnolia's streets, heading toward the Saffron Motel and thusly toward Laxus. When she asked to meet him, this was the only place he agreed to see her.

_You're doing the right thing_ , she thought when her resolve wavered. _You are. You are._

Knowing that didn't stop her heart from palpitating when she heard footsteps fill the alley ahead and to her right. Mira clutched her bag and walked faster, wishing that her shoes were quieter. It felt like the hard soles of her combat boots were _louder_ than any pair of high heels she owned. _You're just being paranoid._ Yeah. She opened her purse anyway and felt the pocket knife Erza _insisted_ she walked around with. Honestly, did Erza think that she was going to just go around stabbing people? Did she think that she was going to _have_ to? The thought made her palms itch and her adrenaline spike.

"Mira."

Elfman's voice was low and unmistakable. Mira searched the darkness for his visage. Her eyes landed on a segment of shadow at the mouth of the alley that was deeper than the rest and stayed there. Her brother stepped out into the streetlight. "What are you doing, Elfman, lurking around like that?" Mira scolded.

"I needed to see you." He held out his hand for her. She looked down the street and saw no one so she took it. He pulled her into the alley. In the moonless night, Mira tripped over things like soggy cardboard and kicked shattered glass.

"What are we doing?" Mira asked.

Elfman stopped, putting her back against the wall. They stayed like that, letting nothing but darkness linger between them.

" _Elfman_ —"

"I know you're trying to go talk to that cop."

The bottom dropped out of Mira's stomach. "What?"

"Don't play dumb, Mira. You have to stop. Don't go see him. Don't speak out against Zeref. Or it'll be the last thing you do."

It took her a moment to realize what he just said. "Did you threaten me?"

"No," he said with surety. "I'm warning you, Mira. He'll know. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt so just leave this alone."

She almost couldn't look at him. She _made_ herself. "I'm going to see Laxus Dreyar because he's a paying customer. That's not going to change. You can tell Zeref that if he's getting twitchy about it and doesn't trust me, he can come talk to me himself."

Elfman sighed. "Reconsider, Mira. It's not just your life in danger here, that detective is looking good, too."

"Then come in with me and make a statement against Zeref."

"I won't."

"Elfman—"

"You shouldn't either, Mira. You're smarter than this."

She got mad. "You know that I _want_ to be a constable, right?"

He said back just as viciously, "You know they'll never hire you on, right?"

She scowled. "Why the fuck not?"

Elfman was without mercy. "Because you're a whore, Mira."

"Prostitution has been legal for _years_ ; they can't hold that against me."

"They can and they will. And if they don't, once they see your name and realize I'm your brother, that'll destroy any chance you have."

"It won't matter," she said in vain.

"It will and you know it."

"Then come turn yourself in," she said.

"No."

"Not even if it meant that I'd be able to have a decent job and the career that I wanted?" Before things got fucked up, it was all she ever thought about.

"It's not a good career for you."

"I guess I'll just be an escort forever," she said flippantly. "Maybe Zeref will keep me on his lap until I get old and ugly. He doesn't seem like a vain kind of man. I'm sure he won't mind saggy breasts and grey hair when he has money to buy a much younger _whore_." Elfman looked like she'd slapped him. _Good._ "Or maybe if I'm sick of that, he'll let me do some assassination work for him. Maybe _I'll_ be the one that goes into the police station and shoots unarmed men in the back of the head."

She'd guessed it was him and had her confirmation when he recoiled.

"I can't even look at you, Elfman." She pushed past him. "Unless you're either coming to be my brother or to kill me, don't come looking for me."

"Mira—"

She gave him the finger. Her heart was _pounding_ as she exited the alley _._ Did she think Elfman would kill her? Not really. On the other hand, he did so much now that she didn't think he was ever capable of before. She was cautiously optimistic as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. No bullet found a place in her back so she figured she hadn't grossly misjudged Elfman. He still loved her. He still _wanted_ to be a good person.

She walked quickly to the motel. Her forehead was slicked in sweat by the time its trashy visage came into view. It was like every other motel in this, the older part of Magnolia. It was squat with a faded red brick siding, seven rooms for rent all connected to one another. The office was across the parking lot. Mira didn't even glance at it, her eyes were honed in on the man standing beside room number four, smack dab in the middle of the row. He looked up from where he scrolled through his phone and met her eye. The side of his face was discoloured and a little swollen. From Elfman no doubt.

She watched Laxus stuff the phone back into the pocket of his trousers and was pleased to see he was still dressed from his day at work, right down to those more-than-a-little-dirty leather shoes that _all_ detectives seemed to have that she liked so much.

She could lap him up.

The urge was muted by her purpose there. Her resolve wavered when she glanced at the cars in the lot and recognized a white Taurus beside Laxus' violently yellow Roadrunner. She looked inside. Natsu wasn't sitting in the driver's seat. That didn't mean _anything_. She could _feel_ his eyes upon her. _Is he going to gun me down?_ Or Laxus for that matter? That was brash, even for Zeref's brash younger brother. No, she believed he'd act if he felt he needed to.

She was determined not to give him a reason.

Mira pretended like she didn't notice the car by running her fingers over the Plymouth's loud paint. "Maybe we should ditch the room, Detective, and use the car again?"

Laxus hid how taken aback he was by her first words with moderate success. "Is that why you wanted to see me?"

"I like returning customers," she said as she prowled closer. "How do you feel about it?"

"Obviously well enough," he said and held up a room key.

Mira's smile turned real. "You surprise me, Detective."

"Me, too," he groused.

She came to stand toe-to-toe with him. "Well, come on then."

"Mira…"

"Mm?"

"When you said you wanted to see me—"

She kissed his throat and grabbed his cock right there beneath the overhanging eaves. Laxus' sentence was replaced by her name again. Mira stole it from his mouth with a kiss and started to touch herself. "We're in _public_ —" he protested.

"If it bothers you then take me to where we're not," she said. He was getting hard. What had started out as a ploy to fool Natsu was turning into the real thing. Mira felt low in her belly tighten. She grabbed at the buttons at the front of her dress and started undoing them right there. She wasn't holding Laxus to feel him get harder but he pressed against her leg readily enough.

Her dress was open and the front of her bra was undone before Laxus realized that she was serious and fumbled behind himself for the door. Mira was admittedly sad when he pulled her inside. The only thing more thrilling than the potential of being caught was the actuality of it.

She didn't know if Natsu watching with his favourite revolver at the ready if she made a wrong move _counted_ but she was going to include it anyway.

"You're fucking insane," Laxus said when the door was closed.

Mira shucked off her dress like old skin, her underwear, too. "Be thankful. It basically guarantees butt stuff." Naked, she went to the window and tugged back the drape, leaving only a thin veil in its place.

"You're an animal."

She knew how wicked her smile was as she sashayed back to him. "Last time, you told me you _liked_ that." She undid his pants and pulled him out but stopped Laxus from throwing off his jacket and gun and dress shirt. "I like it with it on."

"Yeah, you're not the one that has to clean up after," Laxus grumbled.

"Here." She allowed him only to undo his shirt.

"Is that supposed to help?"

"Me."

His complaints stopped when she dropped to her knees and put him in her mouth. It was there, caressing him with her tongue in the most thorough way she knew how that she felt eyes on her. It was only for an instant, Natsu checking to make sure she was doing what she said she was doing, but it was enough to make her excited enough that when she massaged between her legs, an orgasm was something that was easy to come by. Laxus swore above her and took her by the hair. Mira worked on making him swear again.


	15. Chapter 15

Erza's feet guided her when her mind had turned off. Though she didn't spend much time thinking as she navigated Magnolia's familiar streets, she did _watch_. She watched the shadows and especially the light for monsters hiding in plain sight. She watched the alleys and the doorways for any man that prayed. She never noticed how _many_ crosses were in the city until she thought to look for them. Too many and yet not enough because it still breathed sin from every crack and every cranny. The smell of drugs and alcohol was on the air and blood. Ever. It smelled like home, like a place she'd come to and found sanctuary in. It seemed strange to find safety in the chaos but after the night she met Jellal, she'd taken a great many things into her own hands and avowed to never be at anyone's mercy again. She wanted control. Always. And it was the one thing she found was slipping away from her recently.

She didn't like it.

Erza knew well before the Lincoln Town Car pulled up beside her that she was being tracked down. She could hear it in the way that the tires slowed. She glanced sideways. Instead of getting anxious like she might have, she sighed, recognizing the vehicle. The window rolled down and a cool voice called her name.

Erza kept her eyes forward and her feet moving quickly, glad for the intermittent barrier of telephone poles and street signs to keep her and the passenger of that car at a distance.

"Don't ignore me, Erza."

"I thought you'd appreciate how much I've learned from you."

"That's not fair."

"That depends upon your position I suppose," Erza said before she realized that her mother had actually manipulated her into speaking. She blew a lock of hair from her forehead and stopped. The Town Car stopped as well. Eileen's smile was barely illuminated in the glow of a streetlamp. She scooted closer in her seat, folding her gloved hands over the windowsill neatly. Shadows still clung to her, though now Erza could see half of her face, from her nose down. Her mouth was painted the same scarlet as her hair.

"I've missed you."

"What do you want, Mother?" Erza asked impatiently.

"To see how my beautiful baby girl is doing," Eileen said in a falsely sweet voice. Erza rolled her eyes and started off again. The car kept pace with her. "I hear the police found the Cardinal killer," Eileen said casually.

"Everyone's heard that."

"Have you heard that it's a lie?"

Erza slowed and looked at her mother more carefully. "Says?"

"Says me," she replied. "You're in danger, Erza. Come to Somnium."

"No."

"Erza." Eileen's voice got hard in that _way_ it had. That way that reminded Erza of her childhood and her early teens before she poured all of her efforts into school and got _out_ of her mother's fucked up house. _And then you wasted it all._ And refused help because she thought she could do it on her own.

"You were safe at the Prayer and you were safe at the Barrel. But now? You're staying in a shoddy hotel with your shoddy friend and—"

Erza felt the need to defend Mira. "She's been there for me."

"She's Zeref's little queen," Eileen said. "When he says jump she _will._ Leave this all behind now and come be the woman you were always meant to be. Everything I have is yours, you only have to take it."

"I don't want a criminal empire and I never have." She only wanted to be left alone.

"Stop, Erza," Eileen said with such authority that Erza found herself slowing and turning. Eileen extended one black-gloved hand and beckoned her closer. Erza allowed the woman to take her fingers and weave them together. Part of her _liked_ that feeling. Her mother's hands were strong and even a little familiar.

Eileen guided her to the edge of the Town Car and pulled Erza down so she was in the window. She still had trouble seeing her mother's face. There was glitter on her cheeks and a fine red dress on her body. "Are you going to sing tonight?"

"I like it," Eileen confided. "There isn't anything quite like hiding in plain sight." Only Kyouka knew who she was when she took the stage; Eileen lived in the shadows and treated every day like a game. Those that did know her considered her the Matriarch's confidant and representative, not the Matriarch herself. Erza often wondered how she kept the lie going so long. Then she remembered her own aptitude and thought maybe it was something that ran in the family.

"But you know that, don't you, Erza?"

They were stepping onto grounds that Erza wasn't much comfortable with. She twisted her wrist in Eileen's grasp to no avail. "I should be going."

"I want to talk to you."

"We don't have anything to talk about."

"I'm told there was a crown of thorns left on your stoop."

"They could have been for Mirajane," Erza said.

Eileen's lips pursed. "Perhaps." One of her hands retreated into the car. When she re-emerged, she held a small Barretta Pico, the polymer frame looking as black as pitch. Erza stared at it. "Take it," Eileen said. "You need to protect yourself."

Erza glanced into her mother's eyes before accepting the pistol. It was small in her hands, but undeniably deadly. She couldn't quite identify the feeling in her chest as she examined the barrel. Fear? Relief? She could have gotten her hands on a gun years ago if she thought it was the responsible thing to do. She'd avoided it because she didn't know herself when she held a pistol.

Standing there beneath the streetlight, she didn't _feel_ like a different person. She felt like the same old Erza, wary and cracked at the seams, china dropped to the floor and glued back together again with lies and prayers.

"If you need to use it, leave everything to me this time, Erza. Don't let our past sour you to my help. I am a very powerful woman in this city," Eileen said. "I have a talent for taking care of problems." She released Erza's arm and brought herself back into her car. The window rolled up and then Erza was looking at the taillights. She stood that way, bathed in the glow of the streetlight until she realized that she still had a gun clutched in her hand. She put it in her purse before anyone could see.

It seemed a shame to have a gun and no tequila so she made a special stop at Somnium on the way by. Kyouka saw her come in and saw her go to the bar. She saw her take the bottle from the shelf, too, and never said a word. Erza left the place behind to see if she could recreate the best night of her life.

* * *

Jellal was both grateful and disappointed when he came to his building and saw no Erza waiting for him on the steps or by his car. He still felt like a mess, all of his muscles were cramping and he was soaked in sweat. He needed to go in, drink a couple Gatorades and shower. He didn't really feel fit for company.

In the elevator, he wanted to lean against the mirrored panels but didn't dare. He stood uncomfortably, shivering now, and was happy to get out and into his apartment. Last night's dishes were still in the sink, the food he and Erza hadn't eaten gone in Beau's bowl that morning (to the dog's pleasure. Jellal made her promise not to tell Wendy, though he didn't imagine she was in the business of selling his secrets.)

He made sure the dog drank some water first and then gave her a hunk of cheese before he took care of himself. There were three bottles of Gatorade in the fridge. He brought out all of them and drank them with the fridge open, the cool air dropping out and curling around his sweaty socks.

Jellal left the first two bottles empty on the counter and took the third with him into the bathroom where he balanced it on the towel rack and took sips every couple minutes, dropping water all over the floor in the process.

When he was finished and dried, he felt human again, though his muscles were still weak, the ones around his shins mostly. He was definitely going to end up paying for that. From his drawer, he grabbed out a pair of shorts and donned them.

Beau came into the room and leapt onto the bed. Jellal expected her to flop down but she went to the window and pressed her nose against the glass smeared with a hundred other nose prints. He kept meaning to clean it but just never seemed to have the time. The dog stared fixedly out into the night. Jellal was reaching for the curtain to peek out as well when his phone buzzed. He glanced at it on the nightstand and considered ignoring it. The only time he'd answered it lately, it'd brought him some kind of strife.

It buzzed again and almost fell off the nightstand. He grabbed it before it could find the floor and read the text.

_Come out._ There was no name above the number because it hadn't been programmed into his phone, but he _knew_ it was her. He grabbed the curtain and twitched it open. His eyes gravitated to his car and sure enough, there she was perched on his trunk, one foot up on the bumper, the other swinging free. In one hand was her phone and in the other was a bottle he knew all too well. Jellal didn't know whether to groan or to smile. Down low, Erza's face tipped up and her eyes ensnared his. She was in that red leather jacket again and a pair of tight black jeans. He couldn't see all of the details but knew that her hair was the brightest thing he'd ever seen. Again, he thought of spilled rubies, blood, bolts of scarlet silk.

He dropped the curtain and looked to the sky and then to his dog. "I shouldn't," he said to Beau. The dog padded over and leaned into him. He scrubbed her fur. "I should just lie down and go to sleep," he reasoned aloud even as he ceased petting her and hastily dressed in a pair of jeans torn at the knees and a T-shirt Laxus would call a douche shirt, the sleeves both short and tight around his biceps. It was comfortable, the material soft and well-worn, but he'd never wear it in front of his partner. It wasn't worth the harassment.

The dog didn't follow him as he moved toward the door, taking to flopping down on the bed instead. She was tired, too. She was smarter than he was, though.

In his entryway, Jellal grabbed a fitted dark jean jacket and a pair of scuffed up work boots, barely stopping to don either in case Erza decided that she was bored and wanted to leave. He grabbed his keys off the key hook at the door and exited, letting his door close quietly behind him.

The elevator still kind of smelled like him from his run. Hopefully, that would pass and soon. He was glad to leave that behind for the lobby and then for the outside. The moon was high in the sky, a pearl polished to near-perfection.

Erza was no longer sitting erect, she'd sprawled herself out on his trunk and his rear window, making him think of a rose vine once again. She didn't look away from the sky upon his approach. Jellal breathed in jasmine and listened to the quiet music pouring out of Erza's phone. It was in one of her pockets, the sound of July Talk's _Gentleman_ muffled but not smothered. He listened to Leah Fay tell him

_I'm so scared of stillness_  
Always begging forgiveness  
Insatiable appetites  
All come late at night

Coming to stand between her legs implied a kind of intimacy. Jellal didn't think too hard about it when he grabbed her knees and spread them wide to accommodate his body. She was, after all, lounging on his car. She lay there, sprawled and, as far as he could tell, without worry when he touched her. Erza's head tipped, scarlet locks scattering across the windshield in a gentle breeze. Her mouth quirked.

"What are you doing here, Erza?" Jellal asked.

"You owe me some money," she said.

_Oh._ "Do you want to come upstairs for it?"

Her smile widened. "No." She had the same sly look in her eye as she did the night they'd gone to the gun range. The same look that had convinced him to do stupid things. "I want to do something fun."

"Fun."

"Come to the garage on Sumac with me."

Wariness and intrigue mingled. "What's there?"

"An abandoned garage. A shopping cart."

He didn't get it. "It's late."

"You know what they say, Jellal, midnight is for regrets." Her voice was silk roughed on granite. "And… You look like you could stand to have some fun."

Jellal wavered.

Erza pushed herself up on her elbows, hair a red waterfall behind her shoulders. Beneath her leather jacket was a shirt that was too low, hanging loosely off her body. Her breasts were pushed high purposefully to catch the eye. Jellal looked at her body exactly as she wanted and heard himself say something stupid. "Maybe."

Erza's smile held a vicious edge. Jellal didn't step back when she sat up straight. No. He squeezed her knees and then her thighs and said, "I could probably do without the tequila, though."

Erza hid her reaction in the space between his neck and his shoulder where she sliced her tongue over his skin. It felt nice; he wished there was nothing between them. "Maybe it's for me."

He squeezed her legs again. "We could forego the garage and just go inside."

"No." She pushed him back. Jellal released her reluctantly. Erza stood and took his hand. "This way."

All of his tiredness fled as he followed her. She walked with the surety of someone who didn't just spend the last hour and a half running. His legs protested but eventually figured out what to do with themselves. Erza led him through the parking lot and then onto the field beside, where there was nothing but burnt golden grass yet dead from winter's heavy hand. The tequila was opened and when it came his way, Jellal took a shot because she asked.

* * *

Beds were never meant to sag so much. Sheets were never meant to be so scratchy. Though Mira had never lived a life of luxury, she'd surrounded herself with luxurious things. No one wanted an escort that dressed herself poorly or kept her things without any kind of class. The apartment she was renting now was probably the shittiest place she'd ever laid her head. It was still nicer than this motel.

It was comfortable, though, and she didn't really like to examine _why_. It might have something to do with the body she was sprawled over. She didn't take Laxus Dreyar as a cuddler but when she tried to roll off of him, he'd grabbed her arm and kept her exactly where she was. He seemed to like her hair fanning on his chest; he kept playing with the ends.

"I want to be a constable," Mira blurted.

Laxus turned his head and looked at her. His eyes were the grey of a storm-tossed sea, not absolute but with flecks of green and blue and black, too. He didn't laugh like she was afraid of. He did look surprised, though. "You do?"

Mira tried to obliterate the seed of doubt Elfman planted. It was hard. "Yes."

He didn't say, _'But you're an escort_.' She couldn't even tell if he was thinking it. "Are you enrolled in Magnolia College?"

"…That's the plan," Mira admitted.

"It's hard work," he said. "But rewarding. Sometimes."

She smiled more. It was that smile that told her she'd made a mistake in confiding with him. She didn't need any more reasons to like Laxus Dreyar _._ She needed to make money and she needed to go to school and she needed to help Lisanna. She didn't need to get moony-eyed over a man that wore a suit well.

Laxus didn't move and neither did she. He went back to playing with the tips of her hair and Mira voiced another one of her concerns. "Do you think the MPD won't hire me because I'm an escort?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Captain isn't exactly shy about her feelings on the bordellos but if you impressed her?"

"Is she easily impressed?"

Laxus' laugh rumbled through his chest. "No."

"I told my little sister I was going to be a cop. She likes the idea." Mira's cheeks heated as she admitted that. She didn't know why she was being so loose-tongued.

"My family was happy when I got hired on, too," Laxus said a little more guardedly.

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Like?" he wondered.

"Like you're ashamed of that."

He turned his eyes away from her and looked at the cobwebbed ceiling. "My grandfather was the Captain for a long time. He was still in that position when I joined; it wasn't until a year later that he retired. A lot of people thought that's why I got on. It wasn't true, Gramps made me work harder than anyone else. Least, that's how it felt. My dad was a cop, too."

"Is he still working there?" Mira asked. Through a fringe of bang, she watched him shake his head. "Does he work at another police force?" She knew she was prying; she even knew that he didn't want to talk about it. She couldn't help it, though, she was curious by nature. Erza called her nosy. Lisanna used to say she was a gossip queen.

"No, he was at the MPD. He worked Narcotics."

Mira opened her mouth to ask what happened; Laxus beat her to it, spilling, "He was pocketing the drugs he was confiscating. Some he sold back on the streets, some he took. He got addicted. Gramps fired him. He ditched and took everything with him, emptied my college fund and just split. I thought I was fucked but Gramps bailed me out. Paid for school. Now I live in his house and take care of him. He's going senile or something. I don't know. Maybe he just likes to piss me off."

Mira didn't know what to say. "He seemed nice."

"If you have a pretty face," Laxus griped.

Mira smiled and settled back down on his chest. Laxus never relaxed again; his muscles were tightly wound. She did what she could to lull him back into a place of comfort but eventually, he drew in a breath deep enough that his chest expanded and he released her. "I need to get going. Tomorrow's going to be a shitty day, I can feel it."

"Why?" Mira wondered.

"We had a pretty serious security breach at the station today," Laxus replied. "Someone came in and silenced someone we had in custody. It's…" He didn't even finish, his face adopting a furious expression.

_Elfman._ "Who was it that they shot?"

Laxus didn't even try to hide from her. "One of Acnologia's guys we'd picked up. I suspect it was one of his hit men so the guy couldn't talk."

Why would Elfman, who worked for Zeref, kill one of Acnologia's guys, Mira wondered. She chewed her tongue, stewing over the information she held.

"Can I drive you somewhere?" Laxus offered, oblivious to her turmoil because he was lost in a sea of his own.

This time, Mira said yes.

* * *

There was no white Taurus in the parking lot now and no eyes on her skin. Mira went to the Plymouth and dropped herself into the passenger's seat. Laxus joined her. When the car started, Johnny Cash's _Folsom Prison_ filled the space between them. Mira reached for the knob and turned down the volume, though it looked like Laxus was going to de-hand her for it.

Before he could turn it back up, Mira said, "I actually did want to talk to you tonight. And… you should start driving." Just in case. Just because Natsu had left didn't mean that someone else wasn't there, watching. Zeref had all kinds of people that were skilled in all kinds of ways to make girls like her be quiet.

Laxus put the car in drive without further comment. The wheels hit the road before Mira blurted, "The man you have in prison as the Cardinal was framed. He's not guilty."

Laxus didn't look as surprised as she thought he might with her revelation. He said, "Why would you say that?"

She was on the verge of spilling Elfman's secret, that _he_ was the one that had 'taken care of things' as he so eloquently put it but found that no matter _how_ mad she was at her brother, she couldn't sell him out. Mira stretched the truth. "I heard Zeref say so the other day when I was there."

Laxus puffed out his cheeks and glanced over at her. In the dashboard light, she could see that he needed to shave and there were bruises beneath his eyes. Mira thought that's what made him handsome. At least for _her._ "How do you feel about coming in to make a statement?"

Mira's resolve withered. "He'll kill me if I do."

"You'll get protective custody."

"Until?"

"Until all of this blows over."

She sucked on her lip, tasting old lipstick. "I don't know if I can, Laxus."

"I don't know if you can't."

"Zeref… he'll know. And," she said before he could say anything else, "I have no proof to say that it was Zeref that set the cop up. When you find your real killer, Zeref will still be free and I'll still be a snitch." Suddenly, she wished she hadn't said anything at all.

"If you want to be a cop you know you're going to have to make the hard decisions," Laxus said. "The right ones are never easy. Something like this would cast doubt on Gray's confession, making it inadmissible. He could get out of jail and work on getting his daughter back." He fought dirty, telling her, "She's five and probably missing her dad."

She wanted to cry. "Can I think about it? Until tomorrow morning at least?"

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "Where am I dropping you off?"

She named the street address. Laxus took her; they drove the rest of the way in silence. When he stopped the car, Mira said goodnight and didn't bother asking him for money. She didn't want him thinking even less of her than he already did.

The apartment she and Erza rented was above a seedy bar known as Lucky's. They were on the top floor and to get there, you had to take the outer stairwell, metal and rusting and full of grate holes for her to drop her phone or get her heels caught in. Tonight, she was grateful she'd worn boots. She felt unsteady enough without the added tripping hazard.

At room twelve, she opened the door, half expecting to see Erza sitting on her cot, threading her brush through her hair as she often did. No lights were on. She came in, hung her purse on the coatrack and was reaching for the light when the sound of springs crying made her tense. She searched the apartment and saw a figure filling the armchair by the balcony. It was too large to be a woman. Mira was scrabbling for her knife when he spoke.

"Took you a long time. I thought you did business quicker than that."

"God. _Natsu_ ," Mira spat when her mind caught up. "What the _hell_ are you doing lurking in my apartment?"

Like a bad guy in an old mafia movie, Natsu picked himself up out of the armchair that had been in the room when they rented it and stood his full height. He towered over her, not like Laxus or Elfman did, but he was somehow more intimidating. "What did you tell the cop?"

Mira started untying her boots, knowing that if she faltered and shook and stammered, she ran the risk of being dead. "Nothing."

"Then why were you meeting with him?"

She looked at him from the corner of her eye as she started working on the other boot. "Why do you think? He pays well."

"You should stay away from him, Mira."

"You, too?" she asked exasperatedly.

He got close enough that Mira could smell the tobacco on his breath. "Elfman told me what you said. Consider me my brother's voice. If you squeal, it'll be the last thing you ever do."

"I'm getting tired of being threatened today," Mira said. Her voice didn't shake. Win.

"No one's threatening. It's just the truth. Zeref likes everyone to play by the rules."

Mira shirked her jacket and, even though it was too dark to see Natsu's face, she knew he looked at her, the streetlight's coming in through the room in a way that was favourable for him with his back to the window. "I'm not dumb. I wouldn't cross Zeref like that. He's been good to me. And to Elfman."

Natsu's tone turned sour. "I wish Elfman saw things the way you do, Mira."

"What do you mean?" Mira asked carefully.

"Your brother isn't the man you think he is."

She laughed; it sounded more nervous than she'd hoped. "You're right about that; I don't know who Elfman is anymore."

"He's been skulking around _Prodiguer_ too much to be coincidence," Natsu said like she hadn't spoken. "He's been double-dealing with Acnologia and if you're smart, Mira, you'd cut ties with him because Zeref isn't happy."

"How do you know that?" Mira asked.

Natsu visibly weighed the pros and cons of revealing his secrets to her. Finally, he said, "Elfman did a hit for Acnologia today while he lied and told Zeref he was going to see you. Try to patch things up after your argument this morning. The hit didn't go as smooth as he wanted, though, and he didn't make it out before he was spotted."

Mira did her best to keep her face blank. "Maybe it's not how it looks."

"It is."

Mira realized that her fingers were shaking. She smoothed her dress. "What's going to happen to him?"

"Zeref will question him," Natsu said. "And depending on his answers…" He left the words hanging.

"When?"

"Soon, I'd think."

Mira breathed out slowly and glanced toward where her phone was trapped in her purse. Natsu followed her line of sight and read her intentions well enough. He crossed the room and went through her purse without her permission, taking out the phone and folding it into his large hand.

"Natsu—"

"This is for your own good, Mira," he said with the surety of someone who _actually_ believed that. "This is the life Elfman chose. And it's a shitty one when you have people that you love. You're all too stupid, trying to keep each other safe when one of you fucks up. Keep yourself out of this and you'll be fine."

"Please. If he's doing a job for Acnologia there must be good reason—"

Natsu cut her off. "There always is. All Zeref wants is the truth."

Mira swiped a frustrated tear from her cheek.

Natsu switched gears completely. "How is Lisanna?"

"Please give me back my phone."

Natsu leveled with her. "Your brother does stupid things but I don't think he's stupid. He'll know what's at stake when Zeref starts asking him questions. Have faith. Now tell me about Lisanna."

"Please—"

"You saw her today, right?"

Mira let all of her breath go and nodded. "She misses you."

Despite Natsu's warning, some of his hard edges softened, iron gone rotten. "Does she still have the ring?"

"Yes."

"She wears it?"

"Yeah, Natsu."

His mouth twitched into a frown. "Zeref was always telling me to call it quits with her. It was hard. Even after."

And it still was, Mira could see it. While he spouted philosophies about avoiding complicated relationships, living the life he did, he could never really part with his own. "You should go see her. I'm sure it would mean the world to her." Her heart ached for her sister. The two men in her life that meant the most to her would no longer visit.

Natsu didn't respond. At least, not in the way she was expecting. "Are you still working tonight?"

Mira almost told him no but he put her cellphone down on the dresser and she thought maybe he might forget it there, too. She parted with her clothes.

* * *

Streetlights edged into the abandoned building; footsteps cracked over pavement. Jellal breathed in the waste and the piss and the stale cigarette smoke. He breathed in the concrete and the ancient oil slicks and the _industrial_. He breathed in Erza and listened to her laugh. About what? He didn't know. His head spun. Not as badly as it could, he almost remembered how to adult, but badly enough.

The tequila got dropped to the ground. It might have spilled. Erza twirled, arms spread wide, hair red blades. She was an empress bridging the great divide between the man he used to be, the man he'd become, and the man he longed to be. Her jacket came off and was thrown to the damp ground. She kept her boots on only because when she tried to pull them off, they got stuck and she almost fell. Jellal caught her, barely. Really, the wall he pinned her against did most of the work. He tried to kiss her. She deked out of the way, peals of laughter filling the empty space, and reached into the shadows to pull out a shopping cart.

"Push me."

"What?"

She was already climbing in. "Push me." She lounged in the frame in a way that shouldn't look elegant but _did_. Jellal found he wasn't so tired to disobey her request. He didn't even feel foolish for very long. Twenty-seven meant nothing with Erza's laugh filling his head. Gone was the guarded girl. Gone was the killer. She was boisterous and brilliant and bright. She was a blight. He wondered if they could find symbiosis or if she'd rot away all of his integrity.

He wondered if he cared when, after weaving her through pillars and almost dumping her on the ground several times, she let him tug her clumsily out of the basket and put her against the wall. She turned her back and arched her hips and he had his answer: in that instant as he tugged the pants from her hips, he'd say bury integrity. It cost too much to upkeep.


	16. Chapter 16

Natsu surprised Mira with his roughness, grabbing her breasts and then her ass and pushing her down face-first into the mattress with a force that betrayed his frustration. He never said her name or anyone else's, but Mira knew who he was thinking about. It broke her heart. It _hurt._ She knew he loved Lisanna. She knew he'd never _truly_ settle for anything less. She didn't know how she felt about him trying anyway.

On the other hand, when he spilled into the condom and then collapsed onto the bed beside her, Mira was thankful because Natsu was a sleeper. He barely bothered to take the condom off and wipe himself clean before he closed his eyes. Mira went for her phone under the guise of going to the washroom and typed in _He knows. Be truthful._ She couldn't quite bear to part with it afterward and took it with her, waiting for Elfman's response. If he got her text, he gave no indication.

When she returned with her phone still folded in her hand and held mostly behind her back, Natsu's eyes were semi-open. He watched her with purpose and she realized that she'd underestimated him. Natsu's greatest duplicity was the ability to make himself seem ignorant. She stopped hiding. It was pointless. He didn't scold or threaten her anymore, perhaps realizing the weight of their actions. Despite how filthy he must have felt after pretending she was Lisanna, he was still without enough integrity to roll over and invite her into the bed. Mira went. His arm slung over her chest and his leg her hips. He breathed into her neck and closed his eyes, still thinking of a very different girl.

He relaxed.

That would change when the sun came up.

* * *

Jasmine was in his nose. Smooth skin was beneath his palm. As Jellal lay somewhere between wakefulness and dream, he squeezed the body curled into his. The flesh was pliant and giving and he didn't want to let go. Bit by bit, everything settled in reality. The tequila, the shopping cart, the laughter, the cold wall and the hot body and _come home with me_ and her _okay_.

His head felt fuzzy still. He was sure he smelled like alcohol, too.

Jellal cracked open a bleary eye and saw that the sun was caught somewhere between dawn and noon. The girl next to him felt his moving around and stretched. She was nude. He vaguely remembered that, too, stumbling up the stairs and into his apartment. Erza had discarded her clothes without care. If he cared to look, he'd see the trail she'd left behind, his own clothing mixed in with the bunch.

Erza took in a deep breath and opened her eyes. It took her some time to realize that he palmed her breast, her gaze slowly dropping to his hand. She followed his arm back and glanced over her shoulder. When she looked at him with her coffee-black eyes, Jellal had a difficult time reading her expression. Was she displeased? Maybe a little. Disappointed? Sure. In him or herself? That was difficult to say.

"Good morning."

She dropped her head back to the pillow. "Morning."

Jellal didn't release her. She didn't wriggle out of his grasp either, even when his fingers habitually twitched again. So he squeezed her tighter. He had to pee, sure, but he was stiff and willing to put off the urge if it meant that this spell didn't have to be broken. Erza leaned into him just a little; he wasn't even sure if she was aware of the change.

"Do you go to that garage often?" Jellal asked into her shoulder.

Erza shrugged minutely, brushing his mouth against her skin. "Sometimes me and Mira go."

He tried to imagine Erza Scarlet pushing her platinum-haired friend through the garage in that cart and vice versa. If he tried hard, he could recapture the memory of the girl she was last night. It wasn't the same one that lay beside him now, no, but she wasn't gone forever. He could hear it in her voice. She could be carefree if she let herself.

"Who's idea was that?"

She met his eye again, undoubtedly trying to find a motive behind his questions. "Maybe it was mine."

He smiled and could see that the expression made Erza uncomfortable so he smothered it against her shoulder. That, too, made her uncomfortable; it was in the way her muscles tightened. She didn't move, though, so Jellal kept touching her and kept his lips close enough to brush her body.

"You know," he said against her skin, "That piece of land belongs to Somnium and its Matriarch."

"I know," Erza replied with surety.

"You should be careful. I'm not sure they'd like trespassers."

Erza brushed her fingers against the drapes and looked to the world outside as she said, "You don't need to worry about me."

Jellal was thrown back in time to a very different place. A hotel in the heart of Magnolia, posh and clean, except for the room he and Erza stood in. The walls were soiled with blood, and the sink, too, where Erza washed her hands clean and the bruises became evident. In the present, Jellal touched her arm. There was no visible evidence of the damage done. He remembered that at first, he tried to be sympathetic. His words rolled off her like water over metal. She didn't want sympathy. She didn't want anyone to coddle her or to take care of her. So he gave her something different: a partner in crime. Something she didn't know she needed until he'd already agreed to fill that role.

"What are you thinking?" Erza wondered.

It was obvious she expected one answer: for him to say that he was still worried, that she needed to take better care, that she should listen because that's what good girls did. Jellal felt like an idiot sometimes, sure, but he wasn't stupid. Erza had proven herself both crafty and violent. "You're a bad influence." He steered clear of the night they met and stuck with, "I have to work today and I might still be a little drunk."

"You wanted to be badly influenced," Erza said back.

Maybe so. He went back to touching her body, giving up her breast so he could smooth his fingers over her belly and then her hips. It was hard to choose which part of her he enjoyed more, but as he looked at the mouth she'd kept to herself, he thought maybe it was that. He wanted to kiss her and she didn't want to be kissed which only made him want it more. He allowed himself her neck, swirling his tongue over skin that tasted like iron and salt and faintly like lotion.

"Are you paying?" Erza asked.

Jellal didn't believe her shrewd voice. She liked his hands on her as much as he did. He bowed to her need, though. "I'll pay."

She shifted her leg some and let him touch between her thighs and higher. Jellal moved so he could push that cloud of red hair aside and dote upon her kiss after kiss, starting with her shoulder and ending at her hip. "Turn over," he told her.

"Usually, men want me to service them," Erza said.

Yet again she was uncomfortable. She didn't like that he wanted to indulge himself with her. Unfortunate. He helped her turn over anyway and got up on his knees, though the warning signs were there. Soon, she was going to pull away completely or fight to bring things under her control again. He worked at banishing that from her mind. "Relax."

She was doing the opposite; her muscles were tightly wound. Jellal lowered himself between her legs and tried to undo some of the damage. She was reticent when he prodded her with his tongue, not the girl that had lounged on his trunk last night, so willing to be touched, so he worked harder to bring that Erza back and didn't let up until he felt her muscles tighten for a new reason. Eventually, (but before his tongue was tired, thankfully) her hands found his hair, bringing him closer to her body; her breath turned ragged. Moments later, it seemed she'd forgotten entirely how to be guarded. She opened up for him. Jellal glanced up her body and saw her use her free hand to knot her fingers in her own hair. Sunlight streamed in through a crack in the drapes and set the strands to glittering. He loved that hair. He loved her freckles, too, and her moan, muffled as it was against the pillow as she turned her face into it.

Jellal inserted his fingers and spread her wide. That was all it took to bring her to the crest and then crashing over. Her body tightened before going loose.

Erza panted into the pillow, red-cheeked. Jellal didn't give her too much time to think about what came next as he got to his knees and searched sloppily for a condom. He found one in his nightstand and put it on, dropping the wrapper to the bed for his attention later. He straddled one of Erza's legs and lifted the other, putting it on his shoulder and forcing her mostly on her side. She cried out when he pushed inside her and didn't stop; Erza was just as vocal today as she'd been those years before.

It was hard work, but Jellal tried not to linger on the little things—the way she grabbed his forearm and then his wrist, inching her way to his hand, the way she tugged him closer, though he'd bent her at odd angles just to be nearer, the way she wasn't quite so shy when he tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her chin and then her neck. He thought she'd let him kiss her at that moment but didn't push. He wanted her to come back.

When he came, he stayed that way, buried inside of her all the way to the base, crushing her knee practically into her shoulder. She didn't complain. She stared semi-hollowly at the ceiling. There was a war going on in her mind. Jellal eased out of her and let her fight that battle on her own while he went to clean up.

* * *

Erza's body sang. She turned on her side and stared at the closed washroom door, listening to Jellal clash around inside. She imagined him picking up his razor and scraping away the stubble that had been on his cheeks too long. She imagined him brushing his teeth. She imagined him climbing into the shower and washing away last night. But not her. She wasn't blind; she knew he liked her more than he ought. It was in the way he kissed her body, mostly; the way he paid attention to her every nuance.

When he came out, clad only in a pair of shorts, she was still laying there with her face buried in his pillow, breathing in his shampoo, his laundry detergent, and the scent of his skin. She expected him to come back and be sweet with her; she prepared herself for the coldness she'd exude to keep up some semblance of professionalism. Except, he went to his closet, blocking her view with his body, and shuffled around. When he came back to the bed, he had a roll of money in his hand. He dropped it beside her without frills.

Erza fingered the bills. It was less than she was expecting. She wanted to ask which times he wasn't paying her for but was afraid of the answer.

"Come back tonight."

Erza lifted her gaze. "Here?"

"Yeah."

She tucked her tongue into her cheek, considering her answer. Jellal left her to it while he got dressed. "What time?" Erza heard herself ask.

"Text me and I'll let you know."

"Can you afford it?"

"We can talk about cost," Jellal said succinctly as he grabbed out a suit and started to dress.

Erza pursed her lips. _Talk about_? Like it was open for debate. She finally lifted herself from the bed. Her head was all cotton. She blamed her residual drunkenness on her inability to think of a good retort centralized on 'fuck you'. She picked her clothes up on the way to the washroom and closed herself inside.

* * *

The walk home brought Erza by Somnium. She wasn't going to slow, but Kyouka was outside, leaning against the frosted glass and puffing away on a cigarette. Her dirty blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders and there was a not-so-nice smile on her mouth. "Erza."

"Kyouka," Erza said.

"Your mother found you last night?"

"Yes."

"She worries about you."

Erza said, "She doesn't have to. I am her daughter after all."

"Does that mean you're not coming home?"

"Somnium is yours for another day," Erza replied flippantly, seeing through the woman's false good-will.

Kyouka responded with cool detachment, striving for indifference. "Of course it is. Your mother wouldn't put you in charge of such an important operation. But you'd be allowed a room upstairs to carry out your business. You'd be safe."

Erza was feeling prickly enough to say, "And that's where you're wrong. My mother would like nothing more than to have me take an interest in her profession." She taunted Kyouka but it was true. Eileen _liked_ that very few people in the city knew that she was the _real_ face behind Somnium and its bordello and miniature drug cartel. She'd be _thrilled_ to have the opportunity to have the clone of herself running front-of-house while she doused herself in lies and illusions and continually fooled men like Zeref and Acnologia from the shadows. It would be the ultimate deception. Being faceless had never truly been the plan, Erza's mother had once told her, but when Eileen took all of her husband's money and invested it in Somnium, she'd been pregnant with Erza and didn't want anyone thinking that she'd be an easy target. So she'd enlisted Kyouka's help and hid behind the façade.

The lies had protected them. As she stood staring at Somnium's exterior, Erza wondered if that should have been enough, and if it _had_ , what her life would be like _now._ Would she still sit upstairs, feet hanging through the dark wooden bannister, the moans and the drug smoke and the scent of alcohol swirling around her? Would she pass the time watching her mother climb to the stage, dressed in red? Would she help monitor the business under the guise of a whore, fucking men and learning secrets, fucking men and buying their loyalty with praise and drugs instead of love and money? It was disappointing to see that it didn't matter _how_ far she ran, she still ended up in the trap her mother made for her all those years ago.

"Regardless," Kyouka said, bringing her back to the present, "You need to be careful, Erza. Your mother claims you had a gift left for you not so long ago."

Erza couldn't tell if that was a threat or not or what she should even say in response. Whatever the right words were, they weren't, "You're right. Perhaps I'll see you shortly, Kyouka."

Kyouka's expression got undeniably dark. She was worried about her position at Somnium. Maybe she _should_ be. Erza's morals were more perforated now than when she was young. She left Kyouka there.

* * *

Before Erza even stepped foot in her apartment, she knew that there was someone else there as well. In the pale late-morning light, a man's pair of expensive leather shoes shone by the front door. Erza chomped back on annoyance _hard_. She still had to let the door close too loudly, just to prove a point. Around the corner, she heard someone breathe in deep, coming awake. Good.

Erza took herself, and her purse with her gun inside just in case this was an unplanned visit, into the bedroom that smelled not just like Mira's favourite vanilla body lotion but also like some kind of expensive cologne. She found her roommate propping herself up on the bed. Her hair was a _mess_ , puffy and curly and _everywhere_. Her partner wasn't much better, groggy eyed and dozy when he followed suit, lifting up on his elbow. The blankets fell away but Mira didn't try to hide herself, she never did. That was part of what Erza _liked_ about Mira. And right now, it was also what she hated. Couldn't Mira look at least a _little_ abashed after worrying so much about working illegally and then bringing a man home?

"Hey, Erza," Natsu said in a voice that cracked.

"Hi." Erza's frustration only grew. Natsu was _her_ client, not Mira's. He'd never been. He'd never even shown _interest_ in buying Mira's company before—though admittedly, whenever he saw her he'd look too long. Erza never asked what those looks meant and she _usually_ wasn't sorry for her ignorance.

Natsu unravelled himself from Mira, seemingly totally uninterested now. Or uncomfortable. Or something else Erza couldn't exactly peg. He, like Mira, was unabashed with his nakedness. He rose and found a pair of dark pants really too nice and expensive to be thrown on the dusty parquet floor. He picked his shirt up from a similar position and threw it over his shoulders without patience. He barely stopped to do it up. He moved past Erza without another word.

Erza stared through the room, focusing on the yellow curtains hiding the grubby parking lot from view until she heard the outer door close behind Natsu, then said to Mira, "What the fuck?"

Mira pushed her fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry."

"You're going to have to do better than that. You tell me you don't want to work illegally but you invite men back here _again?_ That's what got us a crown of thorns in the _first_ place!" That _might_ have been unfair. It was _probably_ Mira's key that allowed whoever entry into their building but that didn't mean that it was _indefinitely_.

"I know, Erza and I'm sorry but it's complicated." Mira didn't look at Erza as she reached beneath the mattress and grabbed out her phone.

Erza was momentarily distracted from her warpath. "Why are you hiding your phone between the mattress?"

"That's complicated, too," she said as she read the screen. The line of tension that had formed between her brows disappeared. A small, relieved smile pulled at her mouth. She looked like she wanted to cry but choked back those tears.

"Mira." Mira lifted her gaze from the screen and looked at Erza with eyes as blue as the ocean. "Are you in trouble?"

Mira shook her head. "No. Everything's fine now." She switched gears before Erza could ask what _wasn't_ fine before. "Is your client still interested in us?"

She knew just what to say to diffuse the ticking bomb. "I have to contact him. You'll do it?"

"I'll do it," Mira agreed.

That was good news. With any luck, Erza thought she could make up some of the funds she _hadn't_ bothered to collect when she was lying beneath Jellal. "I'll call him."

Mira stood and came to her. "Where did you go last night? I was worried when you didn't come home."

Needing to tell _someone_ just so she could hear her bad decisions spoken aloud, Erza spilled, "To that detective."

"Fernandez?" Mira said with a quirked brow.

"Yes." She didn't tell Mira that she took Jellal to the garage. She didn't tell her that they drank until they were stupid and then he pushed her around like a fool. She didn't tell her that it was fun or that she wanted to do it again or that he invited her back to his home tonight. She didn't have to, either. Mira was perceptive. She didn't bug Erza or remind her of her own rules, perhaps realizing that Erza was going through them all in her own mind over and over again.

"I need to have a shower," Erza announced, "And then I'll call that cop and see what he thinks."

Mira didn't let her go anywhere. She brushed her cheek in a quick kiss. "That detective seems nice."

Sure he was. Nice now didn't mean much, though. Later is when nice mattered. Was Jellal nice when the lights turned low and the stress of his job was gnawing at him? Was he nice when he was eight beers in after a horrible shift? Was he nice when no one was looking?

She thought the answer was yes.

Then again, she thought that before, too. "Women are more predictable."

"Sometimes, a little uncertainty is a good thing," Mira responded.

She didn't get it. She'd never seen the man lay down for the monster.

* * *

Mira was removing her black and gold nail polish when her phone buzzed. She looked toward the washroom before she checked, not that Erza ever butted into her business anyway but _just in case_. It was Elfman as she hoped. His text said, _meet me at Penny's at nine tonight. Don't tell anyone_.

Despite his earlier assurances that he got her text and deciphered its meaning, she wrote back, _are you alright_?

_Fine_ , was his response. _Be there._

Mira sighed and started picking out clothes to wear to go see Lisanna. She wondered how she could look her little sister in the face but knew that she'd do it easily enough. She loved Lisanna and Elfman and if this was the cost of keeping them safe than she'd pay and pay again and again.

The washroom door opened and Erza came out. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder now and weaved into a tight braid. The ends dropped water over her chest and collected in the hem of the plush blue towel she used to cover herself.

"I can't meet that man until after ten tonight." An hour should be enough time to meet Elfman, hear what he had to say, and get back to Erza.

Erza looked at her skeptically. "Are you trying to bail on me?"

"No, I promise," Mira replied.

"Because I'm not telling him we'll meet and then cancelling, and I'm not going by myself."

"Don't worry. Come hell or high water, I'll be there," Mira said.

"If he agrees," Erza grumbled. She went to her closet where all of her things were stuffed inside and rooted around until she came out with a black and blue bong. Mira watched her sit down right there on the floor and pack a bowl. There was a protest on her lips. It wouldn't come out, not even when Erza lit it and blew out a long stream of fragrant smoke. Mira went to the window and cracked it open, not in the mood to argue but also not really interested in being hot-boxed. She took herself to the shower.

* * *

"You look like shit," Laxus hissed across the aisles.

Jellal lifted his head up from his desk and looked at Laxus bleary eyed. "What?"

"I said you look like shit." Laxus' loud voice earned him some curious glances from a few nearby officers.

Jellal went back to reading over the security protocol he'd been assigned without a word, which was unusual in itself. Laxus studied his partner skeptically.

"Are you hung over?"

"No," was Jellal's short and clipped reply.

"Yeah fucking right."

"I'm not."

There was one way to get the truth of the matter and Laxus did it without thought and without mercy. The carton on the corner of his desk was from his favourite breakfast place and held the remnants of a peameal bacon sandwich. He shoved it under Jellal's nose. "You want the rest?"

Jellal visibly paled and pushed his hand away. "Get the fuck out of here."

Laxus would have laughed if he thought it was funny. "You should have called me."

"You said you were busy," Jellal said to his papers.

"Yeah, but I would have come out." Laxus dropped his voice. He was an asshole, sure, but some things were private. "Look, about Erik—"

"Forget it," Jellal said shortly.

Laxus' mouth kept on moving without his permission. "It's really shitty. I'm shitty, too. I should have been there. We'll head over to _Be Frank's_ later and—"

"It's _fine_ ," Jellal said.

Laxus didn't even consider if he didn't want to drink anymore after his over-indulgence. "I'll buy."

Jellal sighed and dropped his cheek onto his closed fist. Laxus couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. He could tell that there was a mark on his partner's neck, though. "Is that a hickey?" His voice was back to being too loud.

Jellal's eyes came open so he could give Laxus a disgusted look.

Laxus pursed his lips. "Tonight's not going to be like that, sorry." He succeeded in getting a weak wry smile from Jellal. "Who was it? Tequila?"

"She's graduated from 'tequila girl'?" Jellal asked.

Laxus shrugged. "Now I know she's not made up."

Jellal focused back on his work.

"It was, wasn't it?" Laxus pressed.

"You fucking gossip more than my prom date did," Jellal griped.

"I'm offended," Laxus made sure to tell him. He'd heard the stories.

"Good."

Jellal was cranky. That was fine. "Was it fun at least?"

"The fuck do you think?"

"Good." Laxus went back to his mountainous pile of paperwork, satisfied. He alternated between reading the same line over again and glancing at his phone, waiting for Mira to text him to say that she _was_ going to come in to talk about Zeref. Did Laxus think that would be the magic card to getting Ultear to let them pick up the case again? No, not exactly. It'd discredit Gray's stupid ass, though, and maybe they could start doing some _real_ work.

A shadow cast itself over Laxus, forcing him to look up from his phone. At the foot of his desk stood Eve in his constable's uniform and in his hand was a yellow casefile. Laxus sat back in his squeaking chair (he'd begged for a new one and was told he was on a list—that was _months_ ago, so now he wriggled as much as possible when Ultear was nearby, just to see if he could annoy her enough to get some wheels greased). "What's up?"

Eve dropped the casefile on his desk and stepped back to regard both Laxus and Jellal. "Someone called this in. At first, I thought it was just kids being…" He struggled with his next words. Laxus thought he was going to say 'kids.' Eve surprised him and said, "Fucked up. But it doesn't sit right with me."

Laxus opened the file and almost spat out the coffee he'd been multi-tasking. "The fuck is this?"

Jellal leaned over from his cubicle and went from pale to green but didn't puke up the coffee he'd been nursing. Professionalism at its finest.

Eve said, "A farmer over on Tenth called it in. He didn't find it until eight this morning. Like I said, I was ready to think it was kids but… there were wires in it making it stand up like that."

It had been a long time since Laxus found himself bothered by blood or gore but every now and again, he'd come across something that made his skin crawl. Their Cardinal was one of them. From across the aisle, Jellal said, "He's been trying to hold off on girls and took his frustrations out on a goat?"

What other conclusion could he come to? Laxus made himself look at the goat that had been splayed open like the girls hadn't. Its legs were broken and stretched, configured in ways that they were _never_ meant to be. On the ground was a coil of thorns.

"Why isn't it wearing the crown?"

High heels heralded Meredy's arrival. "I have a theory."

Laxus scowled at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Eve showed me the files to get my opinion and now I'm offering it to _you_ ," she said without concern. " _Anyway_. I think that he chose the goat because it's often seen as the devil's animal. The reason why it's not wearing the crown? Our killer is still rooted in reality—at least somewhat. This goat isn't his true target but a means to satisfy that compulsive need to kill."

Laxus muttered, "Hope he wasn't fucking it."

Eve laughed nervously. "I didn't think to get anyone to check… Should I?"

Jellal's nose crunched up. "…Yeah?"

Laxus closed the file with authority. "Did you tell the Captain?"

Eve glanced up at Ultear's office and—bless him—blanched. "No, Sir."

"Good." Laxus threw the file at Jellal. "Go butter her up, Fernandez. I'll work Tores."

Jellal glowered. "Why do I get the shitty end of the deal?"

"She likes you."

"She threatened to fire me last time," Jellal complained.

She never would, not unless he fucked up huge and they both knew it. "Just go," Laxus said.

Jellal picked his hungover ass up out of his chair and ascended the stairs, casefile in hand. Laxus looked to Tores office. Really, he thought maybe Jellal got the better end of the deal. Ultear was a hardass, sure, but at least she was nice to look at. Tores would flay him alive if he stepped wrong and he'd get nothing for his troubles.

"Come on, Eve."

"Me?" Eve squawked.

"It was your case, wasn't it?" Eve sighed and fell into step with him. Laxus didn't even have to ask Meredy, she was there. The ever-present smile had disappeared from her mouth.

Tores' office was one down from Ultear's. the door was open a crack. Laxus knocked, not because he was particularly polite but because he knew when to play politics and when to not and now was certainly the time. It was a game Tores excelled at and one that always left Laxus feeling like he was slow on the upkeep.

"Come in."

Laxus pushed the door open. Tores' office was almost as large as Ultear's, furnished with a desk and a matching chair Laxus was sure _didn't_ squeak, and two comfortable looking leather armchairs. He came to lean against the back of one rather than sit, he felt too antsy for that. Tores turned from the window. His hands were behind his head gathering his short, silver hair in a low horsetail. His suit jacket was off, revealing the button-up plum coloured shirt beneath, the first few buttons open. Around his neck, a golden cross winked in the fading sunlight. He effectively stole Laxus' thunder. "Detective Dreyar. I see you heard about the goat."

Laxus fumbled, trying to rework the speech he had planned. The best he had was, "How do you know?"

Tores' smile didn't reach his eyes. "By now, _everyone_ in this office has heard about the goat." He glanced over to Eve who hung his head sheepishly. "I want the rumors stopped in their tracks, one way or another. Talk to the techs. If it's our guy, you have my permission to do whatever it takes to get him. Convincing the Captain might be a little harder." He traded his hair for clutching the edge of his neatly organized desk, leaning his weight upon the solid wood.

"Jellal's working on her now," Laxus admitted.

Tores waved him off. "Go on then."

"That's it?" He didn't know _why_ he asked.

"Don't make me waste my breath, Dreyar."

"Sir."

Tores said, "Stay here, Tearm."

Eve was sweating buckets. Laxus left him to the wolves without remorse. That's what having a big mouth got you. Laxus closed the door behind himself so it was just he and Meredy. Together, they wandered toward the Captain's office, sticking closely to the bannister on the opposite side of the hall. Laxus peeked through the frosted glass and saw the vague outline of Ultear's pressed and glossed hair. Across from her, Jellal was looking like a more jagged shape. Did he even brush his hair this morning? It looked like maybe he tried to slick it back but was mostly unsuccessful.

"I don't think goats are going to do it for long," Meredy said, shattering the quiet.

Laxus leaned his elbows back on the bannister. "No."

"Did you guys speak to Father Buchanan the other day?"

Laxus shook his head. "Not really."

"Well, you should."

"Why?"

"Because last night someone stole the stoup from Kardia Cathedral."

"What?"

She nodded. "Father Buchanan thinks they were trying to fill up some vials with holy water. He came down the stairs and caught them. They were so surprised they just took the whole stoup."

"How do you know this?"

She grinned toothily. "I'm friends with the constable that logged it."

"Huh. Maybe you're alright, Meredy."

"Thanks? I guess?" she said.

Ultear's door opened and Jellal came out looking perhaps even worse than when he went in. "We're good."

Laxus pursed his lips. "Really?"

"Don't ask. Just walk," Jellal said.

That he could do. "How do you feel about taking a trip to see your buddy Buchanan?"

"You're driving."


	17. Chapter 17

It had been days but finally, the sweaty, crinkled cigarette came out from behind Laxus' ear. He lit it and smoked and while he smoked, he thought of how he enjoyed it and how he hated it. Unfortunately, it didn't taste as disgusting as he would have liked. Four days of abuse, riding around on the top of his ear did nothing to curb the acrid flavour. His lungs filled and he felt in control again. Or at least like he _could_ be. Jellal said nothing as they crossed Kardia Cathedral's parking lot, though he did look peaky every time the wind grabbed a cloud of grey smoke and ferried it in his direction.

It seemed his hangover was only getting worse as the day went on. Tequila was like that. Subtle until it hit you and then it hit hard. Kind of like the girl Jellal rarely talked about unless they were a few beers in and Laxus was rooting for information. His partner was an open book with just about everything but the Prayer and that girl. Beyond a few raucous anecdotes, he was mum. "Are you seeing her again?" Laxus asked.

Jellal didn't play dumb. Good for him. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I asked her to come by tonight."

"To which she said?"

"Are you paying?" His tone was more clipped than Laxus expected.

Laxus hauled on his cigarette. He was lightheaded and his tongue burned. The cherry at the end was too long; he was smoking too fast and always had. "Are you?"

Jellal shoved his hand through his hair. "I don't know."

They were close to the front door now so Laxus spilled what he had to say quickly. "Listen. She seems like a fun girl but maybe ah—" Delicacy was never his thing. Gramps was better at it. He'd inherited his father's gift for insensitivity. He struggled and struggled, seeing the issues that could potentially be birthed with the wrong words but seemingly unable to _find the right ones._ He blurted it. "Maybe just hit and quit. She's got baggage."

Jellal reached for the church doors, saying nothing. His face was so unreadable, Laxus couldn't tell if his advice was well received or not. He dropped his cigarette in the ashtray beside the door and entered.

Kardia Cathedral's guts were polished and bright. This House of Worship was the kind that kings would feel comfortable stepping into. From the walnut floors to the brand-new pews to the dais where Father Buchanan spewed his sermon every Sunday morning, everything was immaculate. Laxus dragged his fingers over the back of one ornately carved pew, feeling the bevelled edges along the backrest. The wood was smooth and cool, though it had no secrets to share.

Father Buchanan might, though. Laxus found the man kneeling in front of the altar. It couldn't have been comfortable for someone of his size. It looked like he'd been there for some time, too. The candles he'd lit were burning low. The way they sputtered lent the church an eerie quality, the light from the sun fading and the candles themselves winking out with eventuality.

"Father Buchanan," Laxus called when the priest didn't acknowledge them. "We'd like to talk to you about the stoup that was taken." He found the wall where the old brass bowl had once been. Its absence was _felt_. For all of its grandeur, the church felt _less_ without its piece to hold holy water.

Jellal called, "Father?" His voice reverberated off the empty pews, right along with the heels of his leather shoes as he approached the altar. Laxus watched his partner tense. It was subtle, the way he lengthened his steps and undid the button holding his grey suit jacket in place. It gave him better access to his gun. Guns didn't bother the dead.

Laxus wasn't sure when he decided that Father Buchanan wasn't in this world any longer, but he had his confirmation when Jellal came around the priest's front and his expression closed off. Laxus barely dared to join him. His traitorous body moved anyway.

In life, Father Buchanan's eyes had been a jovial brown despite the hard edge Laxus had sensed in them upon their first and only meeting. In death, they were red. Red. Red. Red with blood. Weeping it. So were his ears and his mouth. Jellal was the first to move, taking his pen from his pocket and crouching. He pressed it against Buchanan's chin. His mouth popped open like a ventriloquist dummy's. Had rigor come and gone or was he just _that fresh_? Where his tongue used to sit was a piece of paper.

"We shouldn't be touching this." Laxus' warning came out without _oomph._ It wasn't like Jellal was going to heed it anyway. The paper popped out and tumbled down Buchanan's front, coming to rest in his lap. It was stained with blood, yes, but still readable in spots. Jellal was careful not to touch it with his hands, using the tip of his pen to press it down.

Laxus saw some reason and stood so he could tug out his gun and search the church's balustrade for any intruders. He saw no one. He still kept his gun out and his eyes peeled. "What's it say?"

"' _What comes out of a person is what defiles them. For it is from within, out of a person's heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person._

_'I have set you free_.'"

"The hell is that?"

"Bible passage," Jellal said distractedly. He dug his cellphone out of his pocket. Laxus thought it was to call it in but he turned on the flashlight and shone it on Father Buchanan's chest. The blackness of his cassock glistened, half-wet. "His rosary is missing."

"I bet that's not the only thing," Laxus said.

When Jellal reached for the cassock to see if his heart was gone, too, Laxus realized that it was he that was going to have to put an end to it. He grabbed Jellal's wrist, breaking him out of whatever trance had him stomping carelessly all over protocol. Jellal seemed to realize what he was doing. he stood and let all of his breath go. "I'll call it in."

Laxus listened to his partner's voice and studied Buchanan more thoroughly. Now that he wasn't so shocked to find him missing his eyes and his tongue and his heart, he could focus on other things. Like the key in Buchanan's hand. Exactly like the one they found on Lucy Heartfilia. He chewed his cheek. When Jellal hung up, Laxus said, "I think we fucked up."

"What?"

He pointed to Buchanan's hands. "I was sure that key belonged to the Barrel."

"And not anymore," Jellal said. He hunched back down. Laxus watched him warily, ready if he tried to do something else stupid. "What does this open?"

"I have another question," Laxus said, looking at the familiar chain. "Is that the one out of the evidence locker?"

Jellal blew a lock of unruly hair from his forehead. "Sure looks like it."

* * *

Father Buchanan was a bad priest. He'd traded guns and knives for tomes and rosaries but his old life followed him. Jellal wore gloves in the man's office, though the techs had already been through there, and looked through his drawers. Empty bags of cocaine and a Walther PPK. Jellal remembered him loving that gun.

Soon, everything would be bagged and tagged but for now, Jellal sat in Richard's place and put himself in the man's shoes. He'd left _Tante_ Alba's Prayer, but he'd never _really_ moved forward. He prayed to God and snorted coke and had guns just in case his past came back around again.

Oddly, Jellal didn't think it was someone from Richard's past that had run wires from his shoulders through into his palms and down his spine. He closed the drawer on the evidence and pulled out his phone. The touch screen worked even with his rubber gloves. He texted Erza, _are you coming tonight?_

He didn't have long to wait for her response. _I'm seeing someone tonight._

_Where?_

This time, she was longer in responding. _Saffron._

There was no Matriarch at the Saffron which meant that Erza was freelancing.

_Cancel and I'll pick you up._

_I'm not cancelling. I can see you after. One thirty?_

Jellal drummed his fingers on Richard's desk in irritation.

Laxus filled the doorway. Someone had turned on the hallway lights, making his sandy hair and dark suit illuminate. "Find anything the techs didn't? Like strange doors leading to torture chambers?"

"No," Jellal admitted.

Laxus had found himself another cigarette. He'd diverged from holding it over his ear to pinching it between his fingers, unlit. It wouldn't stay that way for long. He caught Jellal looking and said, "Want to come out for a smoke?"

Not really. He didn't want to sit there staring at Richard's faux life either, though. The chair croaked when he lifted himself to his feet. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and peeled off the gloves.

"What is it?" Laxus asked. Jellal didn't tell his partner _Erza Scarlet_ and yet, Laxus read him like a book because he changed _what is it_ to, "What's she done?"

"Nothing," Jellal said.

"And that's the problem."

Sure was. He pulled out his phone again. _Cardinal's killed again. You're not safe. Cancel with your client._

She wrote back, _Client? Freelance work is illegal, Detective. I'm just visiting with someone_.

She was being purposefully obtuse. _This isn't a game._

_I'm not playing._ _One thirty or fuck off._

It seemed she was more willing to tell him where to go when she wasn't lying beneath him. Jellal chewed his tongue hard enough that he worried about breaking the skin. _I'll see you soon_

She didn't reply so he assumed that meant that they were still on for one thirty.

Jellal peeked over the edge of the railing as he descended the stairs. Someone had loaded Richard up and moved him off to the lab for examination. The floor where he'd been kneeling was yet stained. The blood hadn't been visible in the candlelight. All of the flames had been extinguished and here, too, the overhead light, rarely used, had been flicked on. The church was still beautiful in that false glow, but it certainly lost some of its mystique. Now Jellal could see that it wasn't _perfect_. Wax had been scuffed up from the floorboards in places, lacquer that was supposed to make the pews' wood shine was marred with finger grease.

"Buchanan had a dagger he used to keep up on that wall over there," Laxus said, pointing above the dais. "That's what was used to—you know." He motioned vaguely over his heart. "Techs found it and bagged it."

Jellal sighed. "Why kill Richard?"

"You heard what Acnologia said. He thinks our killer's a cop and right now, I'm having a hard time disagreeing. Levy checked evidence and said the key was _gone,_ man. Someone walked right in there and took it. When she tried to pull the video feed, _that_ was gone, too."

"Yeah?" It wasn't totally surprising but it was fucking annoying. "That still doesn't tell me _why_ Richard."

Laxus looked at him dryly. "It's not like he was a _good_ priest."

"No."

"This whole thing's been orchestrated. The killer _knew_ we'd come back this way and try to talk to Buchannan. Hell, he might have even staged the whole stoup thing to get Buchanan to report it."

"Who logged it?" Jellal asked.

"Ren Akatsuki."

"Eve's partner."

"Coincidence?"

"Maybe. I don't really believe in coincidences, though." Jellal moved past a technician scribbling in his notebook and pushed open the church's doors. The rising moon had brought with it a cold breeze. A storm was blowing in off the lake. The turbid waters couldn't be seen from Kardia Cathedral's grounds, but Jellal could see the horizon and the lightning that forked across bulbous clouds heavy with rain. They had maybe an hour before they got soaked.

Laxus stopped on the church's concrete steps to spark his cigarette before taking the stairs two at a time. He liked to walk and smoke. Jellal kept pace with him, moving away from the parking lot and onto the lawn. The church's hulking body blocked out the strobing cruiser lights. It didn't block out voices, though. Technicians talked, police talked, civilians hungry for a little bit of discord _talked_. Jellal didn't listen.

"This kill is the only ritualistic one that the Cardinal hasn't taken our victim away for. _Why_?" Laxus mused around the cigarette hanging from his lip.

"Holy ground," Jellal said automatically. "He likes to kill in places like these."

Laxus stopped and tilted his face up. Jellal followed his gaze up the side of the massive church. Though it was dark, the ornate eves could never be smothered by shadow. "Maybe not places like these. Maybe _this_ place. Maybe that's why he didn't move Buchanan. Maybe that key belongs _here_."

"Techs have swept the church top to bottom," Jellal said.

Laxus let his smoke out impatiently. "We're missing something."

"We're missing a _lot_ of things." He usually wasn't so dire but Jellal was feeling plenty out of his depth.

Laxus stomped his cigarette butt out beneath his heel. "This place is important. I'm sure of it."

Jellal sighed. "Let's go over it again then, in detail." The church was _huge._ It was going to take hours. He dug his container of caffeine pills from his pocket and popped one. Hopefully, that would keep him buzzing high until their night was done.

* * *

Penny's was a diner caught somewhere between middle-class Magnolia and the slums. Its façade was 1950-ish with the huge teal awning and matching pillars. The windows out front were plate-glass, clean and without drapes to hide the few late-night diners that sat in booths made from black composite and bright red cushions.

In the parking lot, levitated on a massive steel pillar, was a classic Deuce Coupe, painted a shade of yellow that reminded Mira of Laxus' Plymouth Roadrunner. She eyed the levitated car skeptically and entertained a brief and impractical fantasy. It was a good thing she didn't think she could climb up there.

A train horn blared in the distance. Mira supposed that Penny's being this close to the tracks should have deterred people from visiting the diner, but it seemed like it was one of its charms. She had to admit, she liked the way the ground rumbled beneath her feet and the way her ears _roared_ with the sound of steel grinding over steel. She brought herself to the edge of the train tracks, close enough that she could feel the wind whip by her face. Close enough that if she wanted, she could reach out and touch the train. Her stomach was all nerves but Mira didn't move back. She thought of it as a kind of punishment for last night. She did it for Lisanna. She did it to feel.

The horn screamed again. Mira looked down the tracks and watched the trio of lights approaching at break-neck speed. The conductor was in a rush. Her breath came shorter. Every nerve ending in her body was telling her to move back. She stood her ground, toeing the line between 'safe' and 'danger' with enough regard to realize that she was stupid but not enough to do anything about it.

The train came on like a beast emerging from the deep. Pebbles beneath Mira's feet jostled and rolled. She changed her stance only enough to grip her elbows. When the train roared by, the wind almost pushed her over. It grabbed her hair and tangled it, it grabbed at her dress and tore at it, it buffeted her skin and _hurt_.

A hand closed on her elbow and pulled her back so roughly and so _unexpectedly_ that Mira tripped. She would have fallen but the same hand that destabilized her easily lifted her back to her feet. Scared like she hadn't been for the train, she looked over her shoulder and was relieved to see Elfman's signature shock of hair. He tugged her along until there was decent room between them and the train and then gave her the darkest look she'd ever been on the receiving end of.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to get creamed by the train?"

"No."

"Then what are you _doing,_ Mira?"

She didn't have a good reply. What _was_ she doing? Tempting God.

Elfman didn't need her to speak. "Don't be fucking stupid."

Mira drew herself up. "Don't talk to me like that, Elfman."

"Then don't do stupid things."

"Me?" she retorted, suddenly angry. " _You're_ the one who does stupid things. What were you thinking, killing that man for Acnologia when you knew Zeref was going to be mad?" The freight train almost took her words. Elfman's hearing was good, though. He didn't answer immediately, taking a brand new pack of cigarettes from his pocket and knocking out one crisp white cylinder. He lit it with an old seen-better-days-bic and the smell of Du Maurier filled the air. He blew a stream of smoke over Mira's head. It still burned her nose.

"Answer me."

"Acnologia knows who the Cardinal is," Elfman said at last after giving a quick look around the parking lot.

"How do you know that?"

"Because he _told_ me, Mira, and I believe him. The guy I shot? Erik? He was supposed to die the other night in some shitty alley with his girlfriend. He didn't go down as easy as Acnologia thought, though, and took off. When he turned up at the cop station, Acnologia contacted me. We'd done some business in the past." He said the last quickly; he didn't want to elaborate and Mira wasn't sure she wanted him to, either. "And asked if I'd do the hit."

"Why you?"

Elfman said simply, "He didn't want it coming back to him."

The train was nearing its last car, the noise still loud enough that Mira felt comfortable speaking freely. She pushed her hair from her face so she could better see her brother. "Why? Why did you agree? If you got caught and pinned it back on Zeref…" Who knew what he'd do then? "You could have gotten me _and_ Lisanna hurt."

Elfman said plainly, "I knew I wouldn't get caught."

"You almost _did_."

"It was a calculated risk," he told her. "Acnologia told me he could make sure you were safe from this killer, Mira. I had to take the chance."

Mira didn't know what was worse: Elfman aiding in the cover-up of a murder, _committing_ murder himself or doing it all in her name. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed on it _hard_ to keep from crying. It didn't help, the tears still came. Elfman reached for her and brushed them off her cheeks with hands that had done so many violent things. _How_ were they so gentle? _How_ could she not recoil?

He didn't say he was sorry. Nor did he tell her not to cry. He pulled her in by the shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Mira couldn't pretend after that. She cried and knew that her makeup was getting ruined and her cheeks were going blotchy and that Erza was going to be mad when she saw her.

"You're going to be safe."

* * *

It had been hours since she'd smoked and the apartment no longer smelled like marijuana but Erza was still buzzing slightly. She stuffed her cheeks with a bite of strawberry cheesecake and thought it tasted like heaven. Her bliss was destroyed when Mira walked through the doors looking teary eyed. Erza fought with herself. Ask if Mira was okay? Ignore it and pretend that she saw nothing?

That seemed cold.

She dug her fork into the cheesecake and held out the last bite. Mira saw it. She didn't take it; her chin wobbled. She really broke down, though, when Erza retracted her hand and asked with resignation, "Why have you been crying?"

"I'm sorry."

Erza looked to the cake and then to her sobbing friend and decided that maybe not _all_ of life's ails were cured with sugar.

Just hers.

She ate the last piece and enjoyed it less than she would have normally, then rose to comfort Mira. Even as she gathered the girl into her arms, she couldn't shake the practical part of herself that checked the clock and saw that they had two hours before their client showed up. No one liked to pay for crying girls. At least, no one that Erza wanted paying for _her._

She let Mira sob until the worst had subsided then asked, "Did someone hurt you?" The most horrible thing was, Erza half hoped that Mira would say yes. If she said yes, there was something Erza could _do_ about it. She was good at making people hurt. She was good at making them pay for their sins.

Mira said a stuffy, "No."

Erza waited for the relief she didn't feel and thought that maybe she was a little broken for it. She leaned back and met Mira's tear-streaked eyes. Her makeup was running down her face in dark bands and the lipstick she was usually meticulous with was faded and sparsely applied. "Then what happened?"

Mira opened her mouth and closed it twice. Finally, she said vaguely, "Family stuff."

That was _way_ into the realms of _I don't want to know_. Investing in people was _hard._ Erza thought of the night she'd beat Dan Andrews to a bloody pulp, how Mira had invited her into her bed and comforted her effortlessly. _Everything_ Mira did was effortless. Selfless. Erza used to think that it cost her nothing at all but looking at her now, she realized that the price was high and Mira had been paying quietly.

"Come on." She pulled Mira toward the bedroom. "Tell me about it."

"Tell you about it?" Mira repeated.

Erza found it easier to speak when she wasn't looking at Mira; this way, Mira couldn't see how insincere her desire to know was. "Yeah."

Mira's breath hiccupped. Erza half expected her to crumble again but she climbed into the bed with Erza and curled into her and started with a night long ago.

Erza was proud of herself when she took Mira's confession in stride. From her nearly-raped sister to her murderous brother to his love-guided deal with the proverbial devil, Acnologia. She didn't even falter when Mira told her why she had Natsu's attention for too long. All she could think was: this is a genuine girl. A girl whose life had crumbled down upon her for no other reason than _just because_. She wasn't like Mira. Erza made her own bed. She was okay with that when she was sleeping in it alone, but now she had people trying to share it with her.

Maybe that was inevitable. It wasn't hard to close out those around you. It took very little effort cold-shouldering people close to you. But people were _persistent_. They found the small shred of humanity in you and exploited it with all they were worth. They tried to take you for all that you had. And you gave and felt like you had _more_ for it. The real problem Erza had was when you had more, you had more to lose, and Erza wasn't a very good loser and thought she was happy being a minimalist.

When Mira finished, Erza let the silence bloom and linger for a long time. She watched the digital alarm clock on the nightstand tick the minutes away. An hour had passed. How could Mira have talked for an _hour_? She had a lot to say, apparently. Erza leaned back to better see her roommate. Mira had stopped crying but her eyes were still puffy and her cheeks were still red. "Do you want some help getting ready?" Though Erza had yet to dress or do her own makeup.

Mira nodded like Erza hoped she wouldn't. Still, when she took Mira into the washroom and cleaned her face, Erza found she felt kind of good about it.

"Thanks for not being mad." That was the most miserable part of it all. Erza was quiet. Mira didn't let her stay that way. "What am I going to do?"

"Nothing," Erza said.

"Nothing?"

"There isn't much _to_ do," she said.

Mira swiped her cheek. "I should tell the police what Elfman said. What he _did_."

Erza shook her head. "You're not telling me this because you're eager to go out and do that."

"What do you mean?"

"You're trying to get me to convince you, Mira. You want me to tell you it's the right thing to do."

"Isn't it?"

Erza shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm no one's moral compass." She could hardly be her own.

Mira struggled with tears again. All Erza could think was _please, no_. Mira asked, "Do you think I'm fucked up?"

Erza didn't sugar coat it. "Yeah." Mira's chin wobbled so she added, "But so am I."

"What happened? Before," Mira clarified. "How come you're not a nurse anymore?" She was hungry for the truth and Erza was longing to starve her.

"I never was. I got my degree but I never got a job."

"Why?"

Erza closed her out. "We don't really have time to talk about it right now. I'll tell you some other time."

Mira let it go, resigning herself to sitting on the squat toilet seat while Erza brushed her cheeks clean with a soft cotton swab, then applied makeup. By the time Erza was done, the only tell that Mira had been crying was her bloodshot eyes. Erza used her eye drops to take the redness away and gave herself the same treatment. She'd stopped feeling happily stoned some time ago and vaguely wondered if there was time to smoke again. Or not, because she wanted to be on her toes when this cop showed up.

"Thanks." Mira stood and showed her gratitude in the form of a kiss that made Erza's skin prick with goosebumps; Mira's fingers wandered. Erza basked in the sensation thinking _this is what's going to make tonight manageable._ Most of the time, she thought if there were as many women as men that wanted her company, she'd swear men off completely.

_Completely,_ a voice niggled. Erza used Mira's attentions to push the memory of a sly smile and a skillful tongue from her mind and was mostly successful. Mira knew her body well and with just a few short strokes of her fingers had Erza dampening her underwear. There wasn't much time. Erza let Mira kneel before her anyway. She liked having a warm up before they met with new clients. Who knew what the experience was going to be like? She knew Mira would take care of her if it was unsatisfactory.

Erza lifted one leg and spread wide, inviting Mira to continue. There wasn't much time, no, but Mira didn't _need_ much time. In minutes, Erza felt her body tighten. She came on Mira's fingers and accepted them into her mouth when Mira stood and asked her to lick them clean.

Just like that, Erza forgot about the tears. But not the nerves. She thought to the Pico she'd stuffed between the mattress and knew that she _could_ use it if she needed but hoped that she didn't.

Mira took her fingers away. Erza said, "I'm going to make sure we're safe tonight."

Mira's smile was half mast. Those weren't the words she was looking for. They were the only ones Erza had.

* * *

Older men never bothered Mira. Sometimes, she even _liked_ them. There was a certain thrill that she couldn't deny when she was faced with experience. She thought about that as they invited their client in. He gave them a name she was sure was fake. That was alright; she wasn't sure Erza's name was real, either. Who would have thought she'd be the most genuine in the room?

She expected the man to be nervous. He didn't _seem_ it, though, as he took off his overcoat and hung it up on the hook beside the front door. His rich clothes looked so _out of place_ in the Saffron's shoddy room.

"You had no trouble getting here?" It was Erza that was all nerves. Mira understood. The first time she'd done this, she'd been scared, too. Bordellos had security for a reason. Not everyone was bad, but there were a few. There was something about _paying_ for a woman that made some think that meant they didn't have to _respect_ a woman.

Mira listened to the man's lazy reply and didn't know if he was in the business of disrespecting them. He was in the business of getting what he paid for, though. She came for him and undid his grey suit jacket to reveal the plum coloured shirt beneath. She smiled and winked and led him to the bedroom. She winced when he sat on the bed and the springs creaked. He didn't seem to mind.

Mira turned her attention to Erza next and exposed her. Erza was still tense. It was the weight of the man's gaze. Mira felt it, too. A pound of lead would feel lighter. While it was disconcerting, it was also mildly exhilarating.

_You're fucked_ , she thought for the hundredth time that _day_.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man lean back and undo his pants. She kept watching and while she was _curious_ about the gold and pearl necklace he wrapped around his free hand while he stroked himself, she was much too concerned with making Erza moan. By the time she'd succeeded at her task, the man's hands were empty and he was coming for them. Erroneously, he tried to kiss Erza. Mira rose and took her place so no one could get bent at odd angles about it. He grabbed her with hands that were bruised like Elfman's had been. He squeezed her a bit too tight but never enough to make her say _stop._

Erza undressed him while Mira listened to her phone buzzing distantly in the other room. She knew without a doubt that it was Laxus. _How_ , she couldn't say. She ignored the phone for now and tried to make up for all the times she'd flaked out on Erza recently.

* * *

The third time Laxus got Mira's voicemail, he hit the top button on his phone, making it go dark.

"I'll go drop the keys off," Jellal said from the other side of the Tahoe.

"Yeah," Laxus replied absently. The station parking lot was half-full of cruisers. He found his personal vehicle well enough, parked in the spot he'd taken the Tahoe from that afternoon. He wasn't _supposed_ to park there but the lot had been full and he was _lazy_.

Jellal leaned his forearms on the truck's hood. "I want to try to get a warrant to search the nearby churches tomorrow. We need to figure out where the key leads."

"It's Kardia Cathedral," Laxus replied. "It has to be."

"It doesn't have to be," Jellal said.

"It's what my gut's saying."

"We checked. Twice."

"We should do it again."

Jellal looked to the sky. "When the sun comes up."

The light of day would help things. "First thing."

"Yeah."

"I'll buy beers tomorrow night," Laxus said.

Jellal grunted noncommittally. Laxus took that as an agreement. Jellal would gripe until he came out. Then he'd have a couple and gripe some more about what he _actually_ wanted to gripe about and everything would smooth out.

"Night."

Jellal might not have replied. Laxus fished his key from his pocket and used his phone's flashlight to get it in the car's door, ever concerned with the paint. Never mind the coffee cups on the floorboards on the passenger's side. He was in a rush that morning.

The car rumbled to life. He checked his phone once more before he put the car in gear. Gramps had called him and left a voicemail, asking where he was and when he was coming home. Laxus checked the time. It was one, the call left half an hour before. He cursed his grandfather and entertained the idea of sleeping pills. If he thought they'd mesh with the old man's heart medication, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

Mira still hadn't texted him back.

_Just leave it._

He didn't want to, though. He put the car in drive and started toward her room. Halfway there, he checked his mirror. The car behind him always kept a safe distance and was never overt, but Laxus had a feeling and he often listened to his intuitions. He made a series of irrelevant turns. The car still followed.

_Truck, maybe and not a car at all?_ The lights sat up higher but it didn't look like a particularly _large_ vehicle.

_Like maybe a Ranger?_ Laxus tugged out his phone and juggled driving and thumbing through his contacts for Jellal. When he called, he got Jellal's voicemail. He left a message that went something like, " _I'm on my way to the Saffron Motel. I got a tail. I think it's the guy that shot up the station yesterday."_ He wasn't super hopeful Jellal would get back to him in any reasonable amount of time. He gave it five minutes, (maybe three, he was impatient) before he stepped on the gas. The Roadrunner lurched forward, motor screaming. It was unambiguous. So the fuck what? He took a corner too fast and then the next, too, sliding his car into the underground garage of a mall well before the Ranger could.

Laxus killed the engine and the lights and dug out his gun. There was some solid satisfaction to be felt when he cocked the slide, loading a cartridge into the chamber.

He waited for the truck to come.


	18. Chapter 18

Ultear's office smelled like mint tea. She drank coffee like a pro all before twelve but afterward, she liked to pretend that she was healthy. Jellal never called her on it. He always had a gross amount of caffeine moving through his system.

"Did you find anything?"

"Nothing," Jellal said disgustedly.

Ultear's glossed lip came out. It was late and she'd been in early but aside from the bags under her eyes, she looked like she just walked out of a beauty salon. "It's not very often I have personal visits from Matriarchs, Jellal, and even rarer that Somnium's queen pokes her head out of her hive."

"Maybe she was just trying to stir shit up," Jellal suggested.

Ultear drummed her long nails on her desk. "Maybe. I don't like my people being accused."

He thought of Gray and held his tongue.

Ultear saw through him anyway. "She said most of the police were compromised. It's different."

"You knew his confession was bull—"

"The idiot signed," she snapped.

Jellal let his eyes wander to Ultear's monitor. Though he could only see the back of it, he knew her screen saver was a picture of she and Meredy. He'd asked her about it once and almost had his head ripped off. Now… he didn't know _what_ they were to each other and he wasn't in the business of asking. Ultear liked her privacy. He could sympathize. He did, too. "What do you want me to do?"

Ultear crossed her legs and dropped her chin onto her palm. "I want you to find out what she knows. More than a cryptic 'he's guilty.' If I'm going to accuse my Superintendent of murder, I want there to be _reason_."

"I don't know if she'll see me," Jellal said.

"Make her."

"I can't just—"

"Do it, Fernandez. If there's anyone she'll see, it's you." Jellal opened his mouth. Ultear talked over him. " _Tante_ Alba's word means something, Jellal, and she still cares for you. Get her to pull some strings if you have to but—"

"She won't."

Ultear's frustration damn near steamrolled him. " _Ask_."

He knew better than to argue. "Yes, ma'am. Am I allowed to tell my partner now?" It was hard keeping his mouth shut about something like this.

The look she gave him was shrewd. "Are you sure he can be trusted?"

"As well as I can," Jellal said shortly.

"I still wonder about you some days," she murmured.

"Captain—"

"I _know Tante_ Alba moves her stash, Jellal, and I know someone tells her when we're talking about a raid. I don't know if you're sly or the vulture's got friends in Narcotics, but _someone_ is telling her when we're watching. I'm willing to let that slide as long as no one is getting hurt and your connections remain _useful_. But the moment they're not…"

He looked at her steadily and dared her to make the threat.

"I don't want to have to let you go, Jellal."

"No, you don't, because as soon as I'm gone, so is your connection to the underworld. I'm not going into Somnium without backup. Laxus gets to know." He stood up without apology. Ultear didn't try to stop him. That was a good thing; he didn't know what he'd say if she did. Something irreversible. He was in a pretty shitty mood.

* * *

The bad thing about old cars was the inability to turn off the dome light overhead. Laxus dealt with it as he opened his squealing door (he greased it just last week—it didn't seem to matter, though, it was quiet for a day and then went back to being ornery) and climbed out. He used his bodyweight to snick it closed rather than slamming it. Once free, he put himself against the pillar he'd parked in front of. It wasn't the best hiding place, but it was the one nearest to him. He listened. While he listened, he counted the seconds and reminded himself to breathe. Like always, his grip on his gun was a bit wet. He was a sweater. Gramps called it 'Athletic Response,' Laxus called it 'Nuisance.' He wiped his palms on his pants and readjusted.

No wheels bit into the underground parking lot's floor. Laxus switched his weight from foot to foot and listened harder.

_Maybe you were wrong._

He didn't think so.

His phone buzzed in the passenger's seat. Laxus looked at it longingly through the windshield, though he wished for all the world it would be quiet.

It stopped.

He let out his breath and took in another. The air smelled like oil and old gasoline and spray paint. He found the latter's source not so far away, Kif Kroker's likeness and a speech bubble that said, "the most erotic part about a woman is the boobies." It was fresh, the paint still glistening in the halogen lights. Laxus might have laughed if he wasn't so tense.

He tightened his fingers on the gun's grip and dared to check around the pillar. And found himself looking into a smooth, black barrel.

He had milliseconds to lurch out of the way before a slug bit into concrete and fractured the false stone where his head had been. Silencer or not, Laxus' felt that gunshot in his ears. He straightened as he grabbed his attacker's arm and twisted his wrist to force him to drop the gun. A fist came for him that he almost didn't dodge. It wasn't enough. The man snapped his head forward and hit Laxus hard in the nose. Blood doused him before he could recognize that it hurt and that his nose was likely broken. He didn't swear or stumble, he pointed his gun and squeezed a shot off. The man went down on one knee for only a heartbeat, leg soaked, and he was up again, jamming the grip of his gun into Laxus' wrist.

Bones protested. Laxus bit his tongue hard and got a solid uppercut in. The man dropped his gun and his hood. Laxus was momentarily blindsided by the platinum hair. That slipup earned him a hit in the ribs hard enough that the bruises on his back where he'd been shot ached in ways that they hadn't for days.

His lungs were spasming for air. There was no time to ease them into drawing breath again. He raised his gun and pointed it at the man's chest. "Get on the ground." His words were all fucked up, thick with blood.

The man seemed to have a hearing problem because he came at Laxus barehanded, mouth pulled into a taut line. Laxus squeezed his trigger again. He had no fucking idea where the bullet went. The man hit him like a linebacker and he was swept off his feet. Metal caved beneath his body. The sinking feeling in Laxus' chest had very little to do with the giant man palming his broken face in an attempt to slam his head back into his windshield. He swore and fought dirty, lifting his leg into the man's crotch. The grip on his face faltered; some room birthed between them. Laxus was able to get his leg higher and kicked again. The man was forced back. Laxus stood. He didn't have the luxury of glancing back at his car but did anyway. There was his body print in the steel.

Angry, Laxus forgot about the gun he wielded and punched. He hit with decisiveness; his knuckles ached in the best way. The next punch he threw was blocked. Laxus followed through, using his gun as it wasn't meant to be. Steel bit into jaw. The man wavered on his feet and reached for something to stabilize himself. There was nothing. He tripped on his own feet and caught himself last second. Just in time for Laxus to smash him in the temple. This time, gravity took Laxus' assailant to the ground.

"You're under arrest." Laxus wished his nose wasn't so stuffed. He also wished that when he pulled his cuffs out of his pocket, he didn't almost drop them. The only win he had was that no one was there to see the fumble. He was a sweater and an adrenaline junkie and when either got going, it was hard to tone it back.

The man seemed to come back to himself when the first cuff locked around his wrist. He surged forward with an unexpected amount of speed and energy. Laxus barely had enough time to grab him by the scruff of the neck and slam him into the nearest thing. Too bad it was his wheel well. That metal, too, dented. Laxus only just restrained the 'unnecessary force' he was about to exhibit. It'd be a miracle if Captain believed his tale as it was. Laxus didn't think about how blue his knuckles were or how he was going to explain it to the Captain. He left the man slouched where he was against the wheel while he tore open the door and called it in.

* * *

If Erza had a dime for every time someone said her hair was beautiful, she wouldn't have to be a whore. Usually, it didn't bother her. This time, though, when the fingers threaded through her hair and held her still while her mouth was thrust into and the praise fell upon her ears, her skin crawled. The man thickened in her mouth and she was _glad_ when he finished. The urge to spit him back out was strong. She wanted to get paid for all of her troubles, however, and kept it down, not wanting to insult him.

He pulled out and dropped himself heavily to the bed where he relaxed. Erza went to the washroom and washed her mouth first, everything else after. Though she longed for a shower, she didn't want to leave Mira out there on her own.

Upon her return, Mira seemed to be handling herself. She was propped up on her elbow at the man's side, skating her fingers over his chest. Erza could admit that he was in remarkable shape, not doughy like other men his age tended to be. She let her gaze drift to Mira and attempted to decipher if her gentle touches were an act or not. When the man asked her to come back to his home and thusly extended the offer to Erza, Mira looked downright _suspicious_. And also… interested. Erza never understood Mira's wanton _need_ for dangerous men. It was probably akin to her own need, though Mira wanted to fuck them and Erza found herself wanting to beat them. They were quite the pair.

Before Mira could say something stupid that would get herself into trouble, Erza improvised. "We have another client coming."

"Cancel."

He and Jellal both could use a lesson on telling her what to do. Erza drew herself up and lied and lied and lied. "One doesn't cancel on Mister Clive." Somnium's biggest, baddest enforcer was known to people from all walks of life. "And," this time there was some truth to her words. "You've overstayed. He'll be here within twenty minutes. So, if you please."

The man grinned. "Every time I see you, Miss Scarlet, you're kicking me out."

She might have flushed if it was anyone else. She felt no embarrassment or regret; she wanted him gone.

"Can I see you again?"

Erza started to say no. The man said, "I'll pay triple."

"Triple?"

"And we go to my home."

Erza ignored the look of _yes_ Mira was giving her. "Mister Zero—"

"I have a hot tub and accommodations that are… nicer than this."

This time she _did_ flush. With anger.

Mira spoke up before Erza could say anything to blow it all out of the water. "Can we think about it?"

"I think it's a simple yes or no thing," he said.

She smiled pretty in that _way_ she had. "Please, Sir, understand it's been hard doing what we do lately. And this kind of work, without a Matriarch…"

He stood and began to dress. "I understand. Use the number I gave you to contact me." He barely bothered to button up his dress shirt. Mira stood as gracefully as a gazelle and found a white silk robe. She wrapped it around her body not very securely. Their guest watched her every move while he did up his pants. Erza got the impression of a predator. She liked being prey about as much as she liked Mira filling that role. She wanted to rage when the man cupped Mira's breast and kissed her thoroughly. It only got worse when he came to her and stared at her for a beat too long. Finally, he moved. Erza turned her face to the left so he was forced to kiss her cheek. His lips were thinner than paper. He pressed into her hands a roll of cash much thicker than they had agreed upon.

"A bonus." He winked.

Erza held the money tight and let Mira show him out. While she listened to their voices in the hallway, she looked at the mattress and imagined the Pico sitting in its folds. _You could just take it out_. She told herself that he hadn't _done_ anything to warrant being shot. Did that matter, though? She just didn't like the way he looked at her.

She crossed the room without much thought and crouched. Her naked skin was cold, calves against thighs. Popped springs bit into her fingers and scratched her hands as she rooted for the gun. When she found it, the relief she felt was immediate. She pulled it out and studied its simplistic and deadly design. The composite felt _good_ in her hands. _Mum said she'd take care of it._

Erza closed her eyes. All she could see was that room long ago. If she tried, she could _feel_ the bruises on her skin. She could perfectly relive the moment he'd first laid hands on her. She'd been shocked. And then outraged. And then she convinced herself that it would never happen again. It did. Of course it did. She told herself then that she'd leave him and even went so far as to pack a bag. He came home early and he was so, so nice. All of the lies he told were beautiful.

"You lied to him," Mira said.

Erza startled so badly, she almost squeezed a shot off into the mattress. She swallowed and _breathed_ and then wondered what the hell she was going to do with her gun. She never wanted Mira to see it. She held it in front of her, using her body to block the other girl's view.

"Why would you do that?"

"Did we just have the same experience?" Erza asked the wall.

Mira was silent.

"There's something wrong with him."

"He didn't try to hurt us. He didn't want to call us names. He didn't want anything strange."

Erza hid her actions as well as she could, lifting the mattress and slipping the gun back beneath. "It's just a feeling, Mira." She turned and faced her. Despite Mira's assurances, she had a small bruise on the inside of her breast. Erza pushed the robe down and let her finger skim the area.

"It was an accident," Mira said.

"He's a violent man." Erza was sure of it. Hearing it declared aloud only solidified her surety.

"I don't know if I can afford to pass up triple pay," Mira said. "Lisanna… her room is expensive and I want her to get the best help."

Erza wished Mira had never told her anything about her personal life. She wished she didn't have an image in her mind of a girl smaller than Mira, more innocent, more troubled. She wished she wasn't tempted to do this thing so Mira could have things a little easier. "I don't think it's safe."

Mira said, "I understand. Maybe I'll see if he'll hire just me then."

Erza clutched Mira's robe tight. "I don't think that's smart."

"I've been doing this for a long time, Erza." Mira stepped out of her grasp and went for the phone she'd left on the coffee table in the living room. Erza listened to her rummage around until she found it. "I think I can handle him."

Erza wrapped her arms around her naked body. It was cold now. "Tell me if you're going to do it."

"Will you come with me?" Mira asked.

Erza could only be honest. "I don't know." Maybe, if only to put a bullet in that man's head.

* * *

The horizon was lightening. Jellal watched the sun inch higher and higher and habitually checked his phone. Erza hadn't responded to his _I'm late, sorry_. He didn't know if that meant she was mad at him or if she was unable to answer. He itched to go to her. This night had started out shitty; he didn't want it to end that way, too.

"The fucking truck is just _gone,_ " Laxus fumed, entering Ultear's office and slamming the door. Though he'd been seen by a doctor, his face was a colourful shade of blue and he walked hunched over his ribs. Jellal watched him pop two Percocet already and knew that the glazed look in his eye was only going to get worse. He couldn't wait until Laxus stopped talking and raging so much and started being high.

Ultear looked up from her desk, face stormy. "My door doesn't get slammed."

"Really, because—"

"Sorry, Captain," Jellal spoke over him.

Ultear squeezed the pen she held tight enough that her knuckles turned white. The reprimand she'd been building—somehow—was smothered. "What's our guy saying?"

"He's not saying _anything_ ," Laxus griped. Apparently he was determined to ignite Ultear's wrath.

Jellal said, "He claims he didn't like the way Laxus looked at him at a stoplight."

"I never fucking saw him at a stoplight," Laxus said.

"Obviously. Is he the guy that shot Erik or not?" Ultear asked impatiently.

"Maybe. Probably."

"If he is, the gun doesn't match. There's no serial number, either." Jellal said. "And without a vehicle or any other evidence…"

Ultear shook her head. "Did you get a name out of him at least?"

"Claims he's got amnesia."

"Fingerprints?"

Jellal reluctantly admitted, "He's burned them off."

Ultear's thin brows came together. She massaged her temples. "Lock him up. Maybe he'll be feeling more talkative a little later today."

"Yes, ma'am."

Last second, she added, "I'll make sure he's watched twenty-four-seven. It won't be like Erik."

Jellal wondered if she could keep that promise.

"There are still some people here that I trust," Ultear said, earning herself a quizzical look from Laxus. Jellal imagined what he was going to say to his partner and _how_ he was going to say it. There wasn't an _easy_ way to accuse your Super of murder just like there wasn't an easy way to relay your suspicions.

"Come on." Jellal clapped Laxus on the back and steered him toward the door. Laxus was stiff in moving. And slow. The drugs were starting to take effect.

"Wait—"

"We'll drive and talk," Jellal said. Seconds ticked by and so did Laxus' soberness. When the drugs hit, they hit hard.

"Are you sure about this, Fernandez?" Ultear called at his back.

Jellal said 'Yes' without hesitation. There were very few people he trusted in this world. Laxus was one of those few, next to _Tante_ Alba and maybe Ultear, despite her constant suspicion of him. It was that suspicion, actually, that drew him in and made him think that yes, while she was sly and mean at times, she was genuine about it.

He closed the door at his back and guided Laxus toward the steep wood stairs. Laxus looked at them uncertainly. "I think two perks might have been too much."

"I told you that," Jellal said.

"What would you know?"

More than what he liked most days. "You should trust me when I tell you something," he said instead of telling Laxus about his flirting with drugs in days past.

Laxus' grip on the handrail made his fingers claw-like. "Should have taken the elevator."

"Not too late," Jellal said.

"That's the walk of shame," Laxus said. He started to go down. Jellal thought he was falling. He was just trying to sit on his ass.

"Nope. This is the walk of shame," Jellal said. He grabbed Laxus' bicep and hauled. His partner was _heavy_.

"I'm not using the fucking elevator."

"Just let me help you and shut up." Jellal questioned the wisdom of his decision as soon as the words were out and Laxus got back to his feet. Laxus needed more help than he'd anticipated. _Lightweight_ was on his tongue. He figured his partner had a shitty enough night. He wrapped his arm around Laxus waist and grabbed his utility belt to keep him from going face-first while he threw Laxus' arm around his shoulder.

"You smell."

"Fuck you."

"Like sweat," Jellal continued. "And blood."

"Do some real work and you'd stink, too."

"I do real work. I do it so well, I don't get shot every time I turn around," Jellal said.

"Probably Alba keeps you safe."

Could be. Jellal fell quiet and focused on getting off the stairs in one piece. They should have taken the elevator. He was afraid it'd make Laxus puke. Percocet used to make him nauseous, and that was with just one.

"Why did I take two?" Laxus wondered aloud.

"Do you feel sick?"

"Weird."

"But sick?"

"Dunno."

Jellal looked back up the stairs and considered returning for the Tahoe keys, that way, if Laxus lost it, it wouldn't be all over his upholstery.

"I'm okay," Laxus said, reading his thoughts.

Jellal's skepticism was eclipsed by the ground level. As soon as his feet hit the even marble floor, he better supported Laxus and smiled awkwardly at the more-than-a-few curious looks they received.

"Do you think they think we're gay?"

"Do you care?" Jellal questioned.

"Right now?" Laxus leaned heavier on him. "Dunno."

Jellal fished his keys out of his pocket and lifted his foot to press the disability button on the front door. They swung open automatically and Jellal shuffled through. The air outside was cold in the couple hours they had left before dawn. Laxus really started dragging his feet. Sweat pricked on Jellal's brow. His partner was getting heavier and heavier. "How is it you're grandfather is so goddamn short and you're not?"

"Dunno." That was his favourite thing to say. Jellal angled them toward a group of decorative boulders near the front doors.

"What are we doing?"

"You're going to sit here and I'm going to get my car," Jellal informed him.

Laxus looked like he was going to argue. Whatever he'd been working toward fizzled. "I could sit."

Jellal picked the flattest craggy surface and positioned them with some effort. He had to go down with Laxus to ensure he didn't go right over the other side. When the man was mostly stable, Jellal said, "Don't move, I'll be back in a second."

Laxus' eyes were closed. Jellal took that as acknowledgement and rallied all of the remaining energy he had for a sprint to his car. Laxus was on someone's hit list and while he _normally_ wouldn't be worried about leaving him out front of the police station, he didn't know who to trust anymore.

The underground parking lot was near-empty when Jellal entered. His car stood alone, out in the open. He checked the area anyway, just to be sure. There wasn't anyone to see. He checked his car, too, looking in the windows before opening the door. There was nothing. He hurried after that, starting the engine and pulling it out front again. Laxus was just where he'd left him, only now he had his phone out and was squinting at the screen. Jellal glanced up at Ultear's office before he dared to pull over the accessibility lip in the curb and drive his car over the interlock brick to Laxus' side. Lazy didn't even begin to express how he felt, the kind of lazy that was brought on by little sleep and a lot of stress.

Laxus didn't look up until Jellal had already gotten out, opened the passenger door, and said, "Come on."

"You can't park there."

"Like you can't slam Ultear's office door. Come on."

"I was mad."

"Like she's going to be if she sees me driving over the sidewalks." Jellal encouraged Laxus into a standing position by grabbing him by the collar. Laxus swore and got sloppily to his feet. "Still hurts. Guy hits like a freight train."

Jellal thought of the mess their perp was and held his tongue.

"He fucked up my car," Laxus said. "Like. Bad."

Without answering, Jellal pushed Laxus into his vehicle like he'd load a drunk. He even did up his seatbelt, earning himself a head scrub. Laxus seemed to forget about his car for a moment. "You're a good partner."

"Yeah, buddy. You, too," Jellal told him and slammed the door. With any luck, he thought as he came around the front of the vehicle, Laxus would just _forget_ about the damned car for a while.

Or not. As soon as he got in and put his Charger into drive, Laxus rolled his head on the headrest and asked, "Where _is_ my car?"

"It's getting towed to your house," Jellal said.

"But it's _dented_."

"You can get a hammer and smash out the dents yourself," Jellal replied. "They weren't actually _that_ bad."

Laxus sighed dramatically. "This is shit. I love that car."

"I'll help."

"Yeah?'

Why not? "This weekend." Another head scrub came his way. Jellal shoved Laxus' hand away. "Fuck off. I'm trying to drive."

Laxus put his cheek against the window and said, "Mira gave me a blowie while I was driving."

Jellal glanced at him to see if he was joking. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. She's fucked. I kind of like it, though."

He knew what that was like. He made a left.

"My house is that way," Laxus pointed right.

"Here I thought you'd be too fucked up to notice," Jellal muttered.

"Where are we going?"

Jellal kept his eyes forward as he said, "I was supposed to meet Erza and she's not answering her phone. I'm just going to check on her."

It took Laxus a long time to realize what that meant—so long, in fact, that Jellal had time to pull into the Saffron's driveway and park out front. Then Laxus said, "Mira's here."

"Yeah."

He started undoing his seatbelt.

"Stay here," Jellal told him.

"Why would I stay here when I could be in there?"

Neither one of them knew which room Erza and Mira were renting. "Because. You're high as fuck. If you follow me in, people are going to think I'm trying to roll you."

Laxus' eyes drooped into what was _supposed_ to be a squint. Really, it just looked like he was trying to go to sleep. "I'm thirsty."

"And whiny," Jellal complained.

"You're a shitty nurse."

Jellal handed him a bottle of water from the floor in the back before he got out. How long had it been riding around in there for? Weeks, probably. It was going to taste like plastic and chemicals and he didn't care one bit. "If you're going to puke, do it outside."

Laxus made no indication if he'd heard him or not. Jellal closed his door and approached the Saffron's office. There were a few cars in the craggy, cracked concrete parking lot, but none that really stood out—none with anyone waiting in side with guns to fill in he or Laxus. They were vehicles belonging to people down on their luck, every single one of them. The Saffron wasn't the shittiest place in the city; it was a far cry from the nicest, though. Cheap and semi-clean rooms were a beacon for anyone looking for a place to rest.

The office was a stout building with the Saffron's name emblazoned overtop of it. On a tall stand next to it was a fluorescent sign broadcasting their vacancies. None. Jellal wasn't surprised. A lot of times people stayed here long-term.

At the desk was a man with a head of short curly hair, sallow, yellow-y skin, a pair of thick, horn-rimmed glasses and an accent, foreign and bored when he said, "Yes?"

"I'm here to see Erza Scarlet." Even saying her name made him feel kind of hollow. He couldn't tell if it was because he was worried by her silence or if it was because he was afraid she'd turn him away or if he was afraid she _wouldn't_. He tried to imagine her crawling into the back of his car while Laxus sat up front, mumbling about stupid shit, high and absolutely _dumb_.

"I can't just give out that kind of information," the man said. "It's against policy."

Jellal wavered on playing the cop card. It would get him what he wanted he was sure. On the other hand, he didn't want to cost Erza her room because he was impatient and she wasn't fucking answering her phone. _What if she's asleep_? Then she was going to be pissed. So what? He leaned on the counter casually. "Look. I just want to drop some money off for her. She's expecting me but her phone died and—"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Charger's door open. He trailed off to watch Laxus stagger out. He expected to see his partner curl at the waist and paint the ground with the water he'd swallowed but Laxus, the stubborn and stupid asshole, lurched toward the entrance. He seemed slow and disorganized with his steps but he was _upright_ , not listing as badly as he had down the station stairs. Jellal thought to be mad. Later.

"Excuse me."

"Wait—"

Across the parking lot, the motel's front door opened before Laxus ever had a hope of getting there. Jellal tensed, half expecting to watch his partner get filled in. Threads of red caught his eye, lifted in an early morning breeze and kissed by the first rays of the sun. She was a red queen, vibrant and safe and dangerous though she wore something soft and sultry and misleading. The tension Jellal felt never fled. It redirected. He left the clerk where he was, eager to get to her. The door slammed closed; his feet pinched in his shoes, sweaty and sore from the hours he'd kept them on.

Erza looked up from a stumbling Laxus and found Jellal. She didn't smile. She didn't frown either, though. Jellal thought of her text sent so long ago. _One thirty or fuck off._ That time had long since past, yet she'd waited. He wouldn't accept another explanation for her appearance. Behind her, Mira appeared, pale where Erza was vibrant. She saw Laxus. There was no rushing down the stairs like Jellal thought. No keening or careening or crying. She was shocked into both immobility and silence.

Jellal caught Laxus' forearm before he could mount the stairs. "Hey."

Laxus brushed him off. "I'm fine."

He was _not._

At the top of the stairs, Mira came unstuck. "What happened?"

"Work," Laxus said in a way that Jellal saw straight through. His partner was both ashamed and proud of the broken nose and bruised knuckles. He wanted Mira's attention and now he had it.

"Come inside," Mira said. "And sit down."

Laxus' smile was gruesome, half-formed before his nose tweaked and it fell away.

Jellal made an attempt to make Laxus see reason. "What about your grandfather?"

"I'll text him. He knows how to use that now. Wendy showed him." Laxus patted his pockets for his phone. When he found it, he almost dropped it. Jellal snatched it from him Laxus said, "Tell him I'll be home in a few hours."

"How are you even going to _get_ home?"

"I'll call Wendy."

"No, you won't." There was no way Wendy was coming to pick his stupid ass up from his hooker's room. He sighed. "Call me." He directed his attention to Mira. "He's had two Percocet. He says he's good but he's not."

"I'll take care of him." She had a nice smile. It even managed to look almost innocent without any lipstick on her lips. Then Jellal remembered Laxus' words and looked for the freak. With not much effort he could see it. There was an edge to her smiles. A desperateness that he would have missed if he didn't know what he was looking for.

"Make sure you call me," Jellal said to Laxus.

"Yeah, ma." Laxus was focused on Mira so he didn't see Jellal's glare. His feet shuffled on the stairs, bringing him to Mira's side. She wrapped her arm around his waist and guided him inside. Just like that, it was Jellal and Erza alone.

Jellal had been starving himself of her, knowing once he looked, she would command his attention. When he finally granted himself that privilege, she was gliding slowly toward his car, a red wraith.

With her back to him and her hand on the door handle she asked, "Unless you want to join them?"

Nope. Jellal rushed and hoped he looked collected, though there really wasn't any redeeming his tells. Erza watched him shove back his messy hair and _knew_. Jellal wasn't entirely okay with being an open book for her to pick up and leaf through. Like that book, though, he was powerless to stop it. Just like he was powerless to stop her climbing inside the car and lighting a joint. She seemed determined to push all of his fucking buttons. He was determined to let her. The car filled with smoke. He started the engine and waited until they were rolling to inch down the windows. Erza's smile was vicious. He was powerless against that, too.


	19. Chapter 19

Like a bloodshot eye, the sun crept over the horizon, tired and red and bright, and, in a way, beautiful. Despite its power to capture his attention, Jellal wasn't interested in seeing it. He wanted to get home. He wanted to take Beau out for a pee. He wanted to strip off his clothes and fall into bed and he wanted scarlet locks in his hands. He wanted to think about _nothing_ for the few hours he'd be granted before he picked up Laxus, met with the crew that was going to tear Kardia Cathedral _apart_ and then went to see Somnium's Matriarch because the Captain asked it.

He wasn't _very_ thrilled about the last. Every time he walked into that den, he felt like he was taking his life into his hands. Maybe Ultear and Laxus were right and _Tante_ Alba _had_ told everyone he was off-limits, but how long would her decree last for? He always imagined that working Homicide would shorten his life expectancy. He always hoped he'd never die in a whorehouse, though. Captain Milkovich wasn't as particular about his resting place as he'd been.

_Laxus is rubbing off on you, you're being dramatic._

Yeah.

"You look like you're thinking hard." Erza's voice was honey, sticky and sweet.

Jellal eased his car into his apartment's lot and into his parking space. "Work."

Her joint was getting small. She held it out. "You should relax. Want some?" Jellal was shaking his head before she finished asking her question. Her mouth twitched. "Does it bother you?"

He was truthful. "Some." Not as much as it _should_ , which perhaps bothered him _more._

"But you haven't told me to put it out."

"Would you?"

"No."

Jellal half smiled. "Didn't think so." He worked the gearshift into park.

"That doesn't mean that you couldn't tell me anyway."

"And let you be satisfied by telling me no?" He wasn't a fool; he knew she enjoyed denying men every chance she got.

Erza took another inhale. She never coughed. She smoked too much, Jellal figured. He couldn't think much about that when she looked at him from the corner of her eye and held his gaze. A slew of emotions flitted across her face and then she was moving, taking off her seatbelt and turning so she was on her knees and looking at him head on.

Her hair slid over her shoulder, loose against the midnight black dress she wore. It was too cold for such little clothing. It was apparent she didn't plan on spending much time outside. Or alone.

Jellal searched her eyes as she inched over so her knee was resting against his hip. He wanted to touch her. He _always_ wanted to touch her, though, whenever he was near. It was an obsession that began the first night he met her and continued past the point of healthiness. He held off until she grabbed his right hand and pulled it over so it was on her hip. If it was her instigating things then the blame didn't rest with him, right?

The only thing Erza Scarlet had ever encouraged him to do was lie and be his worst self.

Jellal wasn't sure he hated it.

Erza shimmied between his steering wheel and his chest, her legs on either side of his hips. Her dress pulled up, her arms wrapped around his neck. Jellal's head whirled. The smell of jasmine was in his nose. And mint bubble gum. She'd been chewing it. Marijuana occupied his senses next. With her joint still pinched between her fingers, Erza touched his cheek and Jellal became aware that he needed to shave. The joint smouldered loudly beside his ear, bits of herb popping and crackling. Thick grey smoke made his lungs burn and his mouth dry. He didn't dare complain, afraid of shattering the spell Erza seemed to be under.

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her; her gaze was intense. Jellal had to keep glancing at the lips Erza kept to herself. At the hair he loved and wanted to touch. Erza said, "I keep waiting for you to be awful. To push me. To do something I don't like."

"And?"

"So far, the thing you've done the most of is _nothing_."

And that disappointed her. "Should I push you?"

She wriggled her hips and Jellal knew he wasn't fooling her; she could feel how hard he was. What could he do? She felt good. Her dress was becoming more and more disorganized; her skin was hotter and hotter. He could _feel_ her through her underwear. He could feel her breath breaking across his cheek. The only thing he wanted to do was kiss her. He did not, knowing that it would be so much more satisfying if she did it herself.

"I'd know what to do if you did."

He squeezed her hips and then her behind. She sat up straighter, pushing her breasts forward. Jellal diligently kissed first one and then the other. Erza's eyes fluttered. "You don't like that I'm not like the others?"

Erza didn't smirk even a little when she said, "No one said that you weren't."

Jellal dared to say, "You're here. That's telling in itself." He let his tongue come out and brush over the material of Erza's dress, hoping to throw her off guard enough that she wasn't tempted to hit him. There was nothing but that scrap keeping her separate from him. Hands wandered without permission, roaming higher and higher. Erza never stopped him so he cupped her firmly and lifted her breasts. Her eyes fluttered again. She didn't keep them closed for long; how else would she see to take another hit off her joint?

"Are you sure you don't want a toke?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure about anything." Not then. He arched into her, forcing her forward; her lips pressed together and her free hand tightened in his suit jacket. She was so close now, he could feel the heat from her skin, the dampness of her breath as she slowly let it out. Her mouth hovered over his. She licked her lips and he felt it on his own. So badly, he wanted to press his palm between her shoulder blades and bring her that little bit closer. So badly, he wanted her to do it all on her own. So badly, he wanted her to remind him _why_ it was so hard to walk away from the Prayer and all of the sins it encompassed. He squeezed her breasts and then her behind again. The underwear she wore was small, thin, and barely perceptible beneath the fabric of her dress. Jellal got harder. He tugged on them, not sure whether he wanted to pull her dress off or the panties. Both because he wanted her bare; neither because there was something fantastic about her clothes being in such disarray while he had her. Her hips rolled when the fabric got tight.

Erza pressed her mouth to his ear. "Do you want to go inside?"

No. He wanted to keep doing what they were doing exactly as they were doing it. The sky was getting bright, though, and in the side mirror, Jellal watched one of his neighbours push open the apartment door and go to her car. He squeezed Erza's behind hard (maybe _that_ was his favourite part of her and not her mouth at all? Or maybe it was her full breasts or her violent hair or her more-than-a-little-mean eyes) and rubbed her off his lap one final time before he released her and tugged his keys out of the ignition. "Yeah."

Erza opened the driver's door and unfolded herself. Jellal didn't move for a solid three seconds, trying to get his brain to engage. Tired and horny wasn't a state he often flirted with. Erza ended up grabbing his hand and leading him out. Jellal adjusted what he could and arranged his jacket so he wasn't showing everything off to his neighbours, then kicked his car door closed behind himself and locked it with the key fob. From her car, his neighbour watched he and Erza enter the building. Jellal wondered if it mattered to him that he was seen taking a hooker into his apartment. Not really. Not then.

Erza puffed one more time on her joint before dropping it in the ashtray. Jellal got his key in the lock and managed to get inside. By the elevators, he jammed his finger on the 'up' button and leaned his back against the wall. Erza pushed into him. "Keep going."

She was so much more pliant this morning than she'd been in the past.

Something had changed, though _what_ Jellal wasn't sure.

Nor was he in the business of asking. He touched her, caring not at all that they stood in the lobby, caring not at all that they collectively smelled like drugs, all because Erza grabbed his wrist and guided his hand down low to where her dress met her thighs. Jellal seized her greedily and followed her leg up, up, up to the thong that sat high on her hips. He had his fingers hooked beneath the band when the elevator opened and an older woman walked out, folded in furs and teetering on stiletto heels. Jellal removed his hand from Erza's skirt and hoped the woman didn't see. Her beady eyes moved his way and her mouth was all disapproval and Jellal knew he fooled no one. Not even his smile, weak as it was, was convincing.

He waited until she shuffled by, then tugged Erza into the elevator that smelled like cheap old lady perfume. Barely, he remembered to jam the floor button. The doors closed and they were alone rising high. Erza's lips were curled. She hid the smile in his neck where she bit none-too-gently. Jellal leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, letting the elevator carry him up and Erza pull him down. Was there any equilibrium to be found?

No. No. No. None. Elevator doors opened. Jellal had to convince himself that having her in the elevator wasn't an option no matter _how_ good she felt, no matter how hard she pulled his hair or grabbed his cock or sucked on the skin just beneath the collar of his shirt.

He caught the elevator door before it could close again and lock them inside. "Come on."

Erza's eyes were red-rimmed when she pulled away. He wondered if she was so responsive because she was stoned or if it was something else entirely.

When he opened his apartment door, Beau looked up from the couch. There was a fresh note on the fridge; Jellal checked the stove clock. Eight thirty. How was it so late? Wendy had come and gone. The dog looked between him and Erza and dropped her head back on her paws with a huff. Jellal felt bad. He promised her silently that they'd go for a long run. Later. After Erza. After sleep.

He closed and locked the door. Erza let him, kicking off her shoes and making her way to his bedroom like she _belonged._ In the doorway, she grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head. In contrast to her dress, the thong she wore was whiter than cloud.

Jellal rushed to catch up to her, tugging at the tie that choked him and then the jacket that confined him and the shirt that kept him steady. Because he couldn't decide _which_ to take off, he never succeeded in getting fully free of any.

Erza waited at his bed with hands that were much more decisive as they worked to get his tie and his jacket off. His gun free and his shirt undone. All of it fell to the floor. When he was nude from the waist up, she dropped to her knees and grabbed at his belt. Jellal touched her hair, unable to help himself. It was still damp. He pulled it too hard. Her face tipped up to look at him. There was a wariness in her eyes that had been missing until that moment. He couldn't stop himself holding her so firmly, though. He didn't tell her not to be scared, sure that saying something stupid like that would give her ample reason to lash out. He readjusted and let his fingers inch through her locks. Damp, they curled more than he ever thought possible.

Erza was stationary for another tense moment before she shivered and kept working to get his pants undone. Jellal loosened his hold on her when he was free. She took the bit of freedom he'd granted and tipped her head down so she could welcome him into her mouth. Velvet had nothing on her tongue. Jellal went back to holding her hair too tight. Teeth scraped sensitive skin. He didn't mind, not even when she cupped him and squeezed hard. There was pleasure in pain. There was satisfaction in having her take him in so deep, her lips touched the base of his cock. Nothing was chaste. Jellal had to pull back before she could make him come, wanting more. Erza gasped in a few noisy breaths and wiped her mouth.

"Stand up." Jellal took her by the elbow and positioned her at the edge of the bed. "And bend over."

Jellal got on his knees while she obeyed and tugged her thong aside. Erza was less wary of his ministrations this time; she didn't voice any sort of complaint. In his periphery, he watched her fingers fist in his sheets, he watched her breasts, squished against the bed, heave with every breath she stole, he watched her eyes close as he worked her toward three fingers and let his tongue make her sob. Her orgasm was sworn into the blankets.

Without much regret, Jellal removed himself and found a condom in his drawer. His stash was getting lower than he liked. It wasn't like there was a _steady_ stream of women move through his apartment but there were a few, mostly divorced mothers, actually. His decision was purposeful: he wasn't looking for a girl that was going to want to get his number when he opened the door for her and ushered her out the next morning. He wanted someone that would step back into their lives flawlessly and leave him the fuck alone until the time came to do it all over again.

_And Erza?_

He'd invite her back again and again—there wasn't any point in trying to fool himself. He thought he was so drawn to her because she was so unwilling to be coerced. Or maybe it was memory that kept him coming back. More than anything, he again wanted to kneel on the floor, wet with tequila while Erza paced, beautiful and terrible and demanding control that he happily relinquished. He'd had too much of it. It was nice to be taken from.

Erza-in-the-present straightened while he rolled the condom on. Before he was totally finished, she took him by the wrists and pushed him back on the bed. There, she crawled on top of him, thighs pressing into his hips. She leaned forward to take him inside and her hair slid forward to make a blood-bright veil that separated him from everything else in his life.

Jellal closed his eyes and focused on this. The sound and feel of Erza's body, everything from the tips of her hair sliding over the sheets to the air leaving her lungs to the wet slap their bodies made. She brought herself close enough that her breasts pressed into his chest. It felt intimate; Jellal did what he could not to read into it, sure that he and Erza had very different ideas about intimacy.

That got infinitely more difficult when he opened his eyes and saw the way she looked at him. Intently. Furiously. He wasn't sure _what_ he'd done to enrage her but it was something and she took her anger out in several ways: on his hair, pulling it until he winced and stretched his neck back, on his throat, biting him hard enough that he'd have a mark, and on his body, increasing her pace until Jellal was gasping in pain and pleasure, lost in some kind of perverse spiral that he never wanted to crawl out of.

When it hurt so bad it felt good, he came. Erza continued even after that, using him until she fell into an orgasm of her own. It was only then that she loosened her hold on his hair and took her lips from his throat. Jellal's skin burned. Distantly, he hoped that the collar of his shirt would be high enough to cover the mark.

Maybe he didn't care. Still inside of her, he closed his eyes.

* * *

Laxus didn't think about taking off his shoes, really, he just did what he was told. He didn't think about crossing the floor, either. Or which floor he was crossing and _why_. He only thought about the couch he sat upon because it smelled like lavender.

"Lie down," Mira's sugary voice encouraged.

Laxus found her at the far end, patting her lap. He figured out how to get down there without hurting his ribs too much and made a pillow out of her legs. Unlike the couch, she smelled like vanilla. He blinked up past the lines her body made and let his mind tick away. Some of the things that rolled through it were intelligible, like the line of inquiry he'd strum up as soon as he figured out _how_. Some of the things were just… asinine. Like, how that spider web in the corner above the window had collected more dust than flies. How it was abandoned, sure, but how it still retained its strength. How spiders left their mark long after they'd passed. He looked up through his lashes and thought back to his original assessment of Mirajane Strauss. She was a spider queen. She was sly and all duplicity when she cared to be.

She was delicate, though. It wouldn't take too much to hurt her.

Her fingers slid through is hair. Her lap was warm, her skin soft. Laxus let his eyes drift closed. Two Percocet _had_ been too damn much. Now all he wanted to do was sleep. Nausea had come and passed in waves; mostly it was passed now. He blamed it on Jellal's driving.

"Do you get beat up like this often?" Mira asked.

"Mm. No. Not too often."

"Did you catch who did it?"

"He's sitting in a cell right now," Laxus said.

"That's good." Mira's touch slid down his throat to his tie. She had it undone in a blink and the first couple buttons of his dress shirt, too. Laxus didn't feel less strangled, though. Perhaps because he was so doped up, he understood it was a metaphorical thing, having much more to do with how he felt about the girl above him than any physical discomfort.

"Were you working tonight?"

Mira whispered playfully, "Are you asking because you're going to get me into trouble?"

"I'm asking because I want to know how your night went," Laxus said much more seriously.

Mira pinched her lips together.

"What is it?"

Her fingers swirled over his skin. "You shouldn't really care how my night's been and I shouldn't care that you care."

He didn't _care_ if he should care or _not._ Not then. "Is that a, 'Yeah, it went well,' or 'it was kind of shitty?'"

She sighed. "It was kind of shitty."

She didn't want him asking. He did so anyway. "Why?"

Mira chewed her cheek. "There was just this… client Erza found. She doesn't like him. He offered to pay us triple next time, though."

Laxus forced his closing eyes open more. "Yeah?"

Mira's fingers still swirled. "I don't know what to do."

"Why doesn't Erza like him?"

"Nothing tangible," Mira responded. "He wasn't mean to us or strange really. He's just intense."

"Intense?"

She shivered with some memory and Laxus didn't know how he felt about it. Was that a reaction of fear, want or something else entirely? "It's hard to explain. He's just… different."

"You need to be careful."

"You don't think I should contact him again either?"

For different reasons. He didn't want her to have to take chances and lie beneath men she didn't know, especially when a killer was targeting people like her. To avoid saying something stupid, Laxus turned the question around on her. "What do you think?"

Mira said, "I don't know."

"I think you do." It was in the way her blue eyes fluttered and her gaze dropped and her lip popped out.

"Maybe he's a little unusual."

"Is triple worth it?"

"I have important stuff I have to pay for," Mira said. "My sister needs me."

Laxus said nothing, assuming she'd come to the right and _rational_ decision all on her own. He let his fingers curl around her moonbeam hair and focused on that, letting his out-of-synch mind wander. By the time he realized that he'd been gradually pulling her nearer, her mouth was on his and a sigh was vibrating his tongue. Mira didn't seem to care that he was all fucked up. Actually, she seemed to _like_ it.

_You can't let this go on_. No matter _how_ much he wanted it to. He was severely lacking in the social department, though. Worse than ever. She gave him an opening when she asked, "What's that look for?"

Between their lips, he said, "I decided that your hair colour's real."

Mira's mouth tightened with a smile. "How would you know that?"

"Because," he said, "your brother's is the same."

Mira leaned back; the heat fled her eyes. "Pardon?"

Now that he started, the words spilled out. "And your sister's." He'd found a picture of the latter deep in the archives early that morning. "But I'm more interested in Elfman. How long has he been in the business for?"

Laxus had his confirmation when Mira went white. "I don't—"

"Don't lie."

Mira shut down. "I think it's time for you to go."

Laxus sat up and faced her. The world spun. Nausea came and went. "I think it's time to start talking."

"Laxus—"

"Listen to me," he said as clearly as he could manage. "I know he's your brother. I got a nice good look at him early today when he was busy fucking up my car and then my face. Stop playing games, Mira, and answer the question. How long has he been in the business for?"

Mira was barely listening to him. "You arrested my brother?"

"What was I supposed to do?"

It took several seconds for her to really _understand._ Then her breaths came short. Her eyes filled with tears. She clenched and unclenched her fingers in the small red dress she wore. "Elfman's in jail."

"Yes."

"And Elfman—he did this to you?"

Laxus had wondered if maybe she was involved in some way but seeing how she teetered on the edge of collapse, he thought she really was a spider queen, too delicate for any hard scheming that ended in the murder of cops. _That doesn't mean you should be lazy._ She could be a really great actress for all he knew. "Yeah."

Her face crumpled. Laxus watched her cry and tried to keep himself impartial. Hell, it was hard. He started by stating the facts. "He's not talking yet, but I think if we try, we can get him on murder." He'd stretched the truth some to Ultear that morning, claiming he didn't know Elfman's name and outright withheld information from Jellal. Why? Because he was fucking stupid he supposed. He wanted to hear it from Mira first. He wanted to know if she had been playing him for more than just his money. He wanted to know if he should be taking out his cuffs and snapping them on her wrists. "You need to tell me right now, Mira, did you know about this?"

She just sobbed into her palms. " _God._ Elfman."

"Mira," Laxus barked. She lifted her gaze and met his eyes. Tears made her mascara run. She was still pretty. "Did you know about this? About Erik? About Elfman following me?"

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and shivered. "I—"

"Yes or no?"

"I knew he worked for Zeref," she spilled. "But Elfman… he kept his business to himself. He didn't want me involved. I didn't know he was interested in you. I—" Her words got lost in tears.

He believed that much at least. Laxus pushed his hair back from his face and huffed. "Forget prostitution. This is what's going to crush your chances of getting on the force."

"It wasn't _me_ hurting people," Mira rebuked.

"No, but it was you withholding information," Laxus told her like a big fucking hypocrite. "You should have told me who your brother was."

"I didn't—I couldn't—It's not like that's the kind of thing that comes up in casual conversation."

"It could have when I wasted my time looking for the guy that was in your apartment at the Barrel," Laxus said mercilessly. "That _was_ your brother, wasn't it?"

Her silence spoke volumes.

Family made people weak. Laxus got it. The Dreyar's had more than a few family secrets of their own. He knew for a fact that Gramps had covered up for his dad for as long as he could before enough was finally enough and it became evident that Ivan wasn't going to help himself. "The people you love will make you do crazy shit, Mira. You have to step back sometimes and realize that it's done. They can't be helped and you just need to help yourself. Is he the Cardinal killer?"

Mira sagged like wet paper. She was softer than he'd ever seen her before. Gone was the confident and sassy girl that lured him in and wrapped him up. Here was a pretender. Or maybe the other face she wore was the facade. He didn't know anymore. "No! He promised me. He's not a bad person. He's just—he's—"

"You know that's not true," Laxus said as gently as he could. Elfman didn't do bad things because he wasn't a bad person.

She cried harder.

Laxus felt soberer as he asked, "What can you tell me about your brother? Why, if he's working for Zeref, is he doing hits for Acnologia?"

"Laxus—"

"You fucked up, this is your chance to make it better."

After that, Mira revealed, "He said it was to keep me safe. He said Acnologia knew who the Cardinal was and that if he did that hit, I wouldn't be hurt." She looked like she expected the confession to make her feel better. She only looked more tortured.

"Acnologia knows who the killer is," Laxus mused.

"That's just what Elfman says. I don't know if he has proof or anything," Mira said between her tears.

Could be, Acnologia was just cashing in on the turmoil and fucking with Zeref so he could get a better foothold in the city. It seemed like something he was very capable of.

Mira asked, "What's going to happen to Elfman?"

Now that was a good question. Laxus opened his mouth and closed it again. "If we can prove he's guilty of murder, that's a lifetime sentence." He didn't hold back as he said, "I'm going to try to make that stick. You should understand that."

Mira's tears came faster. "And me?"

Laxus chewed his tongue. "Promise me you didn't know anything about these hits he's been doing for Acnologia and Zeref."

She hesitated too long. Laxus willed her to lie. Mira pulled through and gave him a dismal "I didn't know anything."

"The lies that are the easiest to tell are the ones we want to be true. You should remember that." He dared to brush a tear off her peach-pink cheek. Mira didn't push him away or retreat so he tucked a lock of cloud-white hair behind her ear and let his hand linger, brushing more wetness off her chin where her tears had collected.

Mira sniffled. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't like myself or my career?" Laxus pondered dryly. Must be. "Ignorance is your best friend." It was all of their best friends. "The truth about Elfman is going to come out and when it does… it'd be best for everyone if you—" He couldn't even believe that he was saying this. "If you just acted like you hadn't heard from him in a long, long time, Mira."

Her lip wobbled. "You're not going to say anything?"

"I don't think I know anything."

She said, "It's not really a lie. I only see Elfman when he wants to be seen."

"The less I know the better." This felt very much like it was going to explode in his face. He decided that he needed to talk to Jellal and get another opinion on his waltz into Crazy Land. Maybe his partner would tell him that withholding Elfman's identity and Mira's involvement, however miniscule, was a dumb idea that would get him fired. _Maybe it's not too late to come clean with the Captain._ He didn't know if Ultear would believe that he suddenly and miraculously knew their perp's name and affiliation but sometimes she was forgiving if she had results in front of her. _Maybe she'll think you were just high as fuck and weren't thinking._ That was believable. He felt dumber than a cattail sitting there with Mira's cheek in his palm.

Mira dropped his gaze. "Will I be able to see him? In jail I mean?"

"Yeah."

She shuffled closer to him when he expected her to withdraw. She folded into his side without any help from him and rested her head on his shoulder. Here she was telling him he shouldn't care about her day and yet she was crossing an even more definite line with that one simplistic motion. Laxus didn't inch back from her; he stroked her hair, feeling disjointed, part of the room and _not,_ in this conversation and _not._ In a thick voice, Mira said. "I don't know why he does this. He knows I wanted to be a cop and he just goes ahead anyway."

Laxus didn't tell her that he wasn't sure police work was right for her, hoping she'd come to the same conclusion all on her own. It wasn't that he didn't think she could do it, but it would be a challenge for her. Some people were cut out for it. Mira… He didn't think she'd do what needed to be done if it needed doing, not if her family was involved, and it seemed like they _were._ If she could bend the rules so damned much for her kin, who else would she bend them for?

"I don't _want_ him to do this stuff. I tell him all the time to walk away."

Laxus thought of something to say to make her feel better. He wasn't so good at this shit. "Sometimes, it's hard to get out once you've gotten into it." He saw it a lot, kids that got tangled up in gangs and drugs and just _stayed_ that way because the underworld was a mire.

Her fingers bunched in his shirt. "I can't believe this is happening."

_Me neither._ Laxus hoped when he wasn't so stoned, he'd feel differently on holding onto his information. And if not, he hoped Jellal would tell him he was being a fucking idiot.

* * *

Not enough time had passed when Jellal's alarm went off. Aware of the body still crushing him, he used the hand that wasn't locked around Erza's waist to reach blindly for his phone. He almost sent it sailing off his nightstand. Last second, he recovered and grabbed it up. Erza made a muffled noise of complaint. Jellal hit snooze and relaxed again.

Minutes passed like seconds. His alarm shrilled again, startling him rudely awake.

It was Erza that plucked it from his palm after and shoved it beneath his pillow at the head of the bed. They were still sideways, Jellal realized, his head beneath the window and his legs still half-off the bed. His feet were asleep. His head felt like it was, too. Too foggy.

Erza settled down again and let out a long breath that tickled Jellal's skin. Her fingers splayed on his chest as she relaxed in a way he'd never seen before. It was with regret that he uncovered his phone again and thumbed in a text to Laxus before he could fall back asleep and ignore the alarm the next time it went off.

_Awake?_

_No_ , popped up on the screen almost immediately.

_Give me thirty and I'll be there_? Jellal wrote back.

Laxus didn't reply so he assumed that either his partner had fallen asleep or was diligently ignoring him.

"What are you doing?" Erza mumbled.

"I have to get up," Jellal said. "I have a lot of shit I have to do today."

"What?" Erza's voice reverberated against his skin.

"I have to go to Kardia Cathedral and then I have to make a trip to Somnium."

Erza's face tipped at the last. "Somnium?"

"I need to talk to _Tante_ Kyouka. She has information that I need."

"About the Cardinal case?" Erza wondered.

Jellal thought it was safe enough to admit that. He nodded. "We're close."

"Kyouka won't tell you anything worth hearing," Erza said.

"I have to try."

"She doesn't even own Somnium," she continued like he hadn't spoken.

"She's the only contact I have."

Her lips pursed. "What if I could put you into contact with the real deal?"

Jellal leaned back to better see her face. "You can?"

She hesitated for only a heartbeat before saying, "If you and your partner can promise to leave me out of it because I really have nothing to do with anything that goes on there, I'll make a call."

Jellal told her what she wanted to hear.


	20. Chapter 20

More than anything, Erza was aware of her limitations as she lay in a bed that didn't belong to her, a bed that smelled like laundry detergent, soap, and body. Tiredness softened the edges of her discomfort but not enough. It was never, ever enough.

She never wanted to be caught off guard with a man again.

Jellal rose from the bed. His skin was the kind of pale that would easily take to tan. His neck and face were slightly darker than his torso. Once the weather got warmer, Erza wondered if he'd be one of those beautiful douche bags that spent his free time on the beach or running shirtless. The kind that she eyed but thought was arrogant and unworthy of her time unless they were paying for it. Then again, she always thought men weren't worth her time. It was what kept her safe.

Jellal chose a pair of dark boxer briefs and pulled them on. Erza watched, trying to decide how she felt about those. She was so particular about men's underwear and most of the time, she thought it really depended upon the man wearing them.

She was disappointed to learn that she liked Jellal in those like she liked him in most things; like she liked the way he _did_ most things. The way he acted and the way he treated her.

The realization didn't hit like before. No. This time when he didn't act in a way she expected, delivering on the pain she thought for sure was to come, she wasn't possessed to bite him so hard, he wore her teeth marks on his neck like a brand. She wasn't pulling his hair so much that it clearly hurt. She wasn't fucking him so roughly, she was hurting herself. Most importantly? She wasn't toeing the line of real violence just to see if _he_ would be violent. She was just resigned. And frustrated to be that way.

Across the room, Jellal gathered up clothing, a towel that was strewn across a wooden chair, and left the room without telling her 'I'll be right back' or 'sorry, I'll just be a minute.' He left her to her own devices without concern for what trouble she'd get into in his apartment alone.

That, above even how she felt looking at him as he did domestic things, almost comfortable with her eyes on his body as she lounged in his bed, made her twitch. She didn't belong here.

She didn't belong with him or to him.

She looked to the gun she'd dropped to the floor last night. Slate grey. Deadly. Her fingers itched. So did her feet. She heard the shower turn on and clambered out of bed. The gun was in her hand and the safety was off when the bathroom door opened and Jellal poked his head out.

He barely looked at the gun she held. "I didn't think, did you want a shower, too?"

Erza wondered what it would take to shoot him before he got uppity and showed his true colours. What it would take to actually _see_ his true colours.

_That's what mum is for_. There wasn't a better judge of character than Eileen Belserion.

She'd tell Erza if Jellal was a pretender after she put him in the ground for being so false.

Erza's palms itched again. Jellal thought she was doing him a favour, arranging this meeting. She was only trying to avoid another trap.

"Erza?" She'd been wrong; there was actually a hint of uncertainty to him. His eyes flitted to the gun but didn't linger too long. Despite his ability to act, Erza knew he was reliving the first night they met because she was, too.

She swallowed and put the gun down. "Yes."

He held out his hand.

It was easier to go to him when he didn't voice exactly what he wanted.

* * *

Percocet made Laxus feel like shit. Cobwebby and slow. His mouth was dry and the world still felt like it was separate. When he focused on his phone, really, really focused, he knew that was real. And that Jellal was going to be there soon.

He went through his phone, trying to wake himself up and saw that after Jellal had texted Gramps last night, he had received a flurry of texts asking what he was doing. He scrolled through them until he got to the last, sent from his phone. It was a picture of Mirajane standing on the steps of the Saffron early that morning. There was no associated text to go along with that photo. His grandfather had sent back an emoji of an eggplant and the 'Okay' fingers. The old man thought he was funny. So did Jellal. _That's what I get for giving him my phone_. Lesson learned.

There was hair as fine as spider's silk in his hand; he felt it when he closed his fingers. Skin, warm and soft, pressed into his chest and here he was, trying to get up.

_Have to,_ Laxus thought. Get up. Get dressed. Suck back as much coffee as he could without giving himself gut rot. It was going to be a long, shitty day he was sure. He looked around, planning his route of escape. The room Mira had led him to at some point that morning was small, white, and trimmed with wallpaper of the ugliest variety, some floral spread that looked like it belonged in the kitchen of some old woman's house. Maybe Porlyusica's.

Fingers moved across his chest, taking his mind away from that.

"What is it?" Mira's voice was choked with sleep.

"I have to get up," Laxus said.

"Mm." She got to the part of his chest where her brother had left a bruise the size of a small watermelon. She hesitated. Laxus wondered what she was thinking. Was she ashamed or glad that Elfman had gotten him good? There wasn't any sense asking; he didn't really want her to confirm what he already knew: her sympathies existed in a place where both emotions were neck-in-neck. It was possible to be both glad that her brother had put up a fight and disappointed.

Family. They definitely made you do and think stupid things.

"And go to work," Laxus said when she finally skimmed over the swollen contusion and kept on trekking down to where he'd stripped to a pair of Deadpool boxers. He could feel her mouth quirk and the self-consciousness that had been coming took first a back seat and then got out completely when she cupped him. Morning made him chubby. Mira palming his cock made him harder than steel. There were no more tears to navigate and if there was anger, well... he could think of worse ways to dispel it. Her cheek slid across his chest and down his stomach to the band of his shorts. She kissed the space it hugged his skin. Even the chastest touch of her lips felt indecent.

And then came her tongue.

Laxus closed his eyes and let her kiss him through the material of his shorts saying only, "I have to go soon."

"We'll be quick then," she said as she got to her knees and turned herself around. She was in a small yellow shift and that was all. When she bent over beside him, the material rode up over her behind. Laxus took her leg and made her put it over his shoulder so he could duck between them and worked at being quick. She wasn't as easy to make come as she was when they were in the driver's seat of his car or the curtains of some shitty motel were open but he was starting to come to know what she liked. In minutes she was turning her hips down and gasping around his cock. She started to shake shortly after that. Laxus kept on just as he was and was rewarded.

When she moaned, it travelled right through his body. A sharp clap resonated before he realized he'd left his handprint on her ass. She shivered and repositioned again, climbing down so her hips rested over his. Her hair was a wash of white on her skin. She went rooting through her nightstand and came back out with a condom. Laxus listened to her fuss with the package and, as she worked to get it on, he busied himself with grabbing her hips and squeezing, her behind.

When she was done, she adjusted and guided him inside. He didn't let her do all the work, pulling her back so she was arched over him and then wrapping his arm around her waist to make slamming into her easier. Her screams resonated in the small room, bouncing off dingy walls and competing with the bedsprings for volume. He didn't last long and wasn't all that sad for it; there really wasn't time to roll it out. When he came, he pressed into her as deep as possible and closed his eyes.

Seconds passed, minutes. Mira's breathing returned to normal. Laxus' followed. His mind started moving again, faster than before, and the things it passed were of real concern. What he had to say was going to piss her off but he didn't want any misconceptions. "I can't let your brother out."

Mira turned her head slowly and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes were no longer cheery. Impatience and a monster lived in her gaze. "I know the law, Detective." She got off of him then and Laxus sat up, swinging his feet around so they rested on the cold parquet floor.

"I'm not trying to be a dick."

"It's a natural state," Mira stated as she went for her robe and pulled it over her body.

Laxus caught her hand before she could leave the room. She met his eyes without reserve. Laxus tried to think of something to say to smooth things over. Mira beat him to the punch. "It's fine. I know what you meant."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said honestly. "I didn't have sex with you under the guise you'd let him out of jail, though—and I am insulted." She pushed her hair back from her face. There were twin spots of colour high on her cheeks.

"Then why did you let me stay here?"

"You were high?"

He said plainly, "So? I arrested your brother." He didn't think he could be so forgiving.

Too quickly, Mira said, "I don't know if I hate you or not. I don't know if I should or not. Or if I should have kicked you out this morning. I keep thinking about it." They were back in the realms of tears. Laxus set reservations aside and pulled her closer. She came stiffly. Despite that, she fit between his legs perfectly. He wasn't much one for romanticisms. He liked her there, though. And when he cupped her cheek and pulled her down? He liked that, too. Liked her mouth on his. Liked her fingers in his. She was still so rigid. He kissed her until he wasn't.

"I get it."

"It's good one of us does," Mira said weakly.

Laxus pushed Mira's hair back behind her ear. "Your brother is in the best place he can be right now."

And just like that, Mira was cold again. "I have to get ready and so do you."

"Where are you going?"

He thought she wouldn't tell him but Mira said, "I have to go see Lisanna."

"Can I shower?"

"Yes. There are clean towels in the washroom."

Laxus didn't know why he kissed her one more time but he did. He didn't know why she returned it either, but she did.

It didn't escape him that she didn't ask for money _again_. He didn't bring it up. If they were going to start crossing lines, they might as well go big.

* * *

In the passenger's seat of Jellal's Charger, Erza weaved her wet hair into a braid and let it sit over her shoulder. She smelled like men's shampoo. _That_ wasn't a first. She smelled like _Jellal's_ , though, and she kind of liked it. And she hated herself for liking it. Just like she hated herself for accompanying Jellal on his dog walk before they left. And like she hated herself for taking Beau's leash and _enjoying_ it, even when the dog pulled up short at random intervals to sniff the ground. When that would happen, Jellal would get this a-little-annoyed-but-mostly-affectionate look to his face and Erza hated herself for liking that, _too._

She sighed and propped her chin on her hand.

"Are you hungry?" Jellal asked as he pulled his car into a drive-thru coffee shop.

"I thought you had to go to work?" Erza returned.

"I do. Have to eat, though. And Laxus gets hangry."

She found herself smiling and smothered the fuck out of that. In its place, she ordered a ridiculous amount of food, most of it too sweet if only because she wasn't in a good headspace. That was going to be regret later. "I'm not coming into Somnium with you," she said as they waited two cars down from the takeout window.

Jellal inched his car up over the litter-and-pothole strewn concrete and dug some bills from his wallet. Erza eyed the money inside. Jellal watched her eye it, too. He closed the wallet with authority and stuffed it back into his pants and Erza thought he was making a statement. Yet, the next time he opened his mouth it was to say, "There's a few hundred in the glove compartment."

Erza's fingers twitched toward it but she didn't _move._

"It's best you don't join us anyway," Jellal said, getting back to their conversation. He rolled down his window as they pulled up to the cash and held out his money. "If you can just set up a meeting, we'll do the rest."

Erza checked the clock. It was eleven thirty, which would have seemed late if she hadn't had only two hours of sleep. "She'll be just waking up."

"How do you know her?" Jellal asked.

Erza considered lying. He'd know, though, as soon as he saw Eileen. "She's my mother."

Jellal almost dropped the coffees he'd been bringing into the window. "Pardon?"

She didn't repeat herself as she took her own coffee and the donuts from his hand. "She doesn't like men very much." She didn't know _why_ she told him that. It counteracted her _true_ motive for sending Jellal her way. She might be sad if he misstepped over something stupid, though, and Eileen killed him.

"Runs in the family?" Jellal asked dryly as he started to pull away.

"She's smarter than me and doesn't have anything to do with them now," Erza muttered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jellal's mouth lift. Her heart did something weird; she bludgeoned that feeling. Who the _fuck_ had time for that noise?

"Must be."

Erza glowered at the road.

"What's she like?"

"Sharp. Cunning. Not very nice," Erza said. "Unless your name is Erza."

"Sounds like that isn't a mutual feeling," Jellal said.

Erza pinched her lips together and didn't respond to the cop-prodding Jellal was so good at. He probably didn't even _realize_ he was doing it.

" _Tante_ Alba is the same way," he said with false casualness. Erza considered telling him to shut the fuck up about his family drama. She was curious, though. So, so curious.

"Why does she love you so much?"

Here, Jellal hesitated. Erza thought he wouldn't speak. She was wrong, though it looked like he'd chewed on a lemon before he admitted, "I asked her that when I was young. She told me before she became a Matriarch, she worked as a whore. She got pregnant—she said the father was wicked. A sinner if she ever met one." Erza thought he was quoting her verbatim. "Because of that, she never told him about the baby. She disappeared and wanted to stay that way. He found her years later, and when he found out she had a child…"

Erza didn't think this story ended with, 'he took the child and ran away'.

Jellal cleared his throat. "Anyway. The boy went missing and _Tante_ Alba said that man never called on her again."

"Didn't she tell the police?"

"I never asked," Jellal said. " _Tante_ Alba tends to do things her own way, though. I wouldn't be surprised if she had him hunted down and hanged." He pulled into the Saffron and parked out front of the motel.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

The answer was _yes_. It was written all over his face. He was a man of the law, yet Jellal lived in shades of grey, especially when it came to the Prayer and the woman he never called mother but had taken up that role flawlessly.

"We're in room fifteen," Erza said and pulled out her phone.

He looked relieved not to be grilled on his avoidance. "You're not coming in?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to make that phone call." Before she listened to any more stories like that and lost her nerve.

Jellal got out without another word. Erza pulled out her phone and found the number hidden in the dusty archives beneath 'Mum.' Her mother answered on the first ring.

"Erza?"

"Hi."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Erza said. She was quiet too long after that.

Eileen asked, "Are you alone?"

Erza licked her lips and started over. "I'm alone. For now. I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," Eileen said immediately.

Erza could imagine what her mother thought. She set about correcting her. "There is a detective that wants to meet with you."

"I don't meet with police."

"It's about the Cardinal case."

"I imagine. I don't meet with police," she reiterated.

"I know." Erza had to work to make herself heard. "I want you to now, though. Because of… what we talked about the other night." All she could see was that Beretta Pico. She longed to reach into her purse and feel it.

It was Eileen's turn to get quiet. "Is it like before?"

"I don't know," Erza said. "I want you to tell me if this detective is a bad man."

"Shouldn't you know what a bad man looks like by now?" Eileen asked.

"... I don't know anymore," Erza said pathetically. "They all look bad, even when they look good." _Especially._ She needed someone impartial. Someone that would save her from herself if she was _wrong._

"Does he hurt you?"

"No. But I'm afraid he might," Erza admitted. She was _always_ thinking that they might.

"I'm glad you came to me for help," Eileen said simply. "Tell your detective to come to Somnium. I will have Kyouka show him inside."

Erza hung up before saying goodbye, not sure if she shared her mother's sentiments. She got out of the car that smelled like Jellal and headed inside just as Laxus and Jellal were heading out. Jellal's eyes came to hers; they always did.

"She'll meet with you," Erza said then clamped her teeth together so she couldn't say something stupid like _be nice to her. Show her that you're not a bad person._ "Kyouka will show you in."

"Thank you, Erza." He sounded so _sincere_. She moved by him before he could reach for her or stare too long and encouraged her to be stupid. His words chased her, though. There was no helping that. "I'll call you when I'm done there."

Erza immediately wished that within the silence, she told him not to bother. Her mouth, the filthy traitor, then went a step further and crept up into a small smile she couldn't, for all the world, kill. "I hope you learn something worthwhile." And that her mother didn't kill him. Simultaneously, she hoped that if her mother saw something dangerous she would tell Erza all about the blight named Detective Fernandez.

He moved on and so did she. Inside the safety of her apartment, she felt less likely to do something irrational.

"Are they gone?"

Erza came into the bedroom and found Mira struggling into a pair of tights so tight, she couldn't wear underwear. She moved hurriedly, next pulling on a white crop top. Over that went a black leather jacket and on her feet, a pair of black pumps. She looked like she was on her way to an _In This Moment_ concert; her mouth was painted with a lipstick the colour of cherries. "They're gone."

Mira didn't say _good_. She didn't need to.

"Did something happen?" Erza asked against her better judgement. Like she needed things to get _more_ complicated.

Mira looked at her. She _wanted_ to spill. It was written all over her face. Erza couldn't have been hiding her reluctance very well, however, because Mira pressed her matte lips together and shook her head so hard, her curls bounced.

"Bye, Erza."

"Wait," Erza said. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go see Lisanna," Mira said.

"And then you're coming back?"

Mira paused at the door. "I don't know. I'll be back at some point."

"Do you have the knife?" Erza asked.

All of Mira's muscles got taut. "I don't want anything to do with that."

She'd always been anti-violence but her clipped tone went above and beyond her usual distaste. "Mira—"

She escaped, leaving Erza talking to herself. The door snapped closed decisively. Erza stared after her. Part of her wanted to find the knife and hunt Mira down so she could force her to take it. Part of her was tired of seeing monsters in the shadows.

She let Mira go.

* * *

Laxus felt sure that there was nothing better than a peameal bacon sandwich. There actually couldn't be. He stuffed his face, though it _hurt_ to open his mouth. He couldn't taste much, either, with his nose fucked up like it was, but _memory._ Memory carried him.

"'fanks."

Jellal looked over at him. There was something scathing on his tongue that revolved around not talking with his mouth full of food. He huffed and handed over a napkin. Laxus rolled his eyes. Jellal was a dweeb sometimes. He still took the offered square and cleaned his face of mayo. It was bad enough he looked like he'd had the shit kicked out of him by a llama. Add to that his unshaved face, yesterday's clothes and his messy hair? He could stand to clean a bit of mayo off his face.

Jellal said, "We need to talk."

Laxus grunted around a mouthful of peameal.

"Yesterday, Captain greenlighted us to continue our investigation because, according to her, Somnium's Matriarch visited her."

"Mm. Mmhm." The tomatoes in the sandwich might have been the best part. Or maybe it was the cheese.

No, Laxus decided again. It was definitely the bacon.

"She said she had information about the Cardinal."

Laxus listened a little more carefully. "Yeah?"

"She accused one of our own."

"Not Fullbuster again."

Jellal's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. "No."

"Are you going to fuck the duck or tell me what she said?" Laxus asked finally when Jellal took extra time checking an intersection before turning right.

"She named Tores."

Laxus forgot completely about his sandwich. "Tores?"

"Superintendent—"

"I _know_ who he is," Laxus interrupted. "Why the fuck would she name him?"

"She didn't give Captain a reason," Jellal said. "Just that she was confident that it was him."

"It was Kyouka for sure?" Laxus asked, trying to wrap his head around it.

Jellal's cheeks puffed out. "Ha. No. They person showed up in a mask and didn't stay long enough to get it off of her."

"How the fuck does a woman in a mask walk _into_ the cop station, talk to our captain and get out again?" Laxus spat.

Jellal shrugged.

"This tastes sour."

Jellal didn't disagree. "Erza set up a meeting with the true Spider."

Laxus took some time to digest that. "She's a ghost. Kyouka made her up to keep herself safe from piranhas like Zeref and Acnologia."

"Apparently not."

Laxus stewed. "For real?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Let's say she's real. How the fuck did Erza set up the meeting?"

Jellal's smile didn't reach his eyes. "She says it's her mom."

"Fuck off."

Again, Jellal shrugged.

"Why the fuck would the daughter of one of the richest women in the city be a whore?" Laxus demanded.

"She didn't want to talk about it."

"Are you a cop or are you cock?"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Put her under fire?"

" _Yes_ ," Laxus said. "Yes. Exactly."

Jellal shook his head.

"This is rotten," Laxus said as Jellal slowed and pulled his car into Kardia Cathedral's parking lot. "Something about this just isn't right."

"I don't know," Jellal said. "Could be alright."

No. It couldn't. "Did that girl suck all your sense out of your dick, too?"

Jellal's responding look could curdle milk. "Yeah? What about you? Why have you been skulking around?"

"Skulking?"

"This morning. I saw you rooting through the records office after you saw the doctor."

Laxus should have known Jellal had his number. He was honest, still hoping Jellal would tell him he was dumb and that he should just go to Ultear. "The guy we picked up. His name is Elfman Strauss."

Jellal looked between Laxus and the road. "What?"

Laxus nodded and told his partner everything he knew, including Mira's not-so-ignorant ignorance.

Jellal blew out all of the air in his lungs. "Shit, eh?"

"It was him we put out that APB for, I'm sure," Laxus said. "Just like it was him that killed Erik and it wasn't for Zeref. When Acnologia contracted him, he said if Elfman did the hit, he could guarantee Mira wouldn't make the Cardinal's list."

"And he believed Acnologia."

"Obviously. Do you think Acnologia really does have information on the Cardinal?"

"He'll probably shoot us if we try to talk to him again," Jellal reasoned.

"We should, though."

"Maybe Somnium's Matriarch is good for more than hiding in the shadows."

If she was, Laxus couldn't fathom why she'd agree to help them. Stranger things had happened. He finished his sandwich and caught himself trying to wipe his fingers on his pants. He used the soiled napkin and dropped it on the floor.

"Does this look like a garbage dump?"

Laxus looked around at the coffee cups, candy bar wrappers, empty envelopes that used to hold mail.

"Shut up," Jellal said. "Your car's dented."

He felt that like a physical thing. "Low blow."

"Yeah," Jellal said by way of apology.

"You're still helping me this weekend, right?"

Jellal grumbled. "Surprised you even remember that."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You tried to go down the station stairs on your ass."

They were tall. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yeah, I'll help," Jellal said over the door's locks disengaging when the worked the gearshift into park.

Laxus threw open the door and stepped into the cool, cloudy day. His trench coat blocked out most of the wind but he still felt a chill as he walked toward the church. The goose bumps might have had less to do with the weather, though, and more to do with the countless cruisers and bodies loitering around. Deconstruction of the church had already begun. Kardia Cathedral was a rotting skeleton missing layers of skin, its front tore open and the support beams beneath barred. The beautiful church was getting the ugliest makeover. Hopefully, when they were done, they'd find the place the key fit. _And if it's not here_?

It had to be. He felt it, and he always trusted his intuition.

The same intuition that was telling him that walking into Somnium was a disaster waiting to happen.

"You know I was shot at last time I went to Somnium, right?" Laxus dove into his pocket and dug out the package of cigarettes he'd broken down and bought. The wind tried to grab the flame of his cheap bic lighter and extinguish it. Laxus turned his back to the breeze and lifted his coat for protection.

"This won't be like last time," Jellal said.

"I didn't think last time was going to be like last time."

"Obviously, you did because you went with your vest."

"No." Laxus pointed with the fingers he used to pinch his cigarette. "That just means that I'm not a fucking idiot."

"So where is it now, savant?"

"Your dumb rubs off on my dumb."

Jellal's nose scrunched up. "Seriously, do you listen to yourself?"

Laxus only said, "Let's see what the techs dug up."

* * *

Before she even got to Lisanna's room, Mira knew that something wasn't quite right. The hallway smelled like a kind of cologne that she didn't recognize, smoky and expensive. She slowed her steps and felt her heart palpitating. Why she was so scared, she didn't know, but she could feel it in her bones. Her high heels tried to sneak out from beneath her when she stepped on the tiled floor. Mira went to great lengths not to fall as she passed the nurses station. One of the women, short, plump and older with a nice smile and kind eyes, looked up from the desk.

"Good morning, Miss Strauss."

"Morning, Nancy." She didn't _like_ that she knew the nurses by name. "How's Lisanna?"

"Oh, fine. She's visiting with your boyfriend now."

"My…?"

"He's handsome," Nancy continued like she hadn't heard Mira. "But a little frightening. If you ask me, though, sometimes a little bit of fear is good for you. It keeps things interesting." She winked and changed Mira's opinion of her forever. She smiled weakly.

"Excuse me."

"Have a nice visit!" Nancy called.

Mira clutched her bag and walked as quickly as her feet would take her. Beeps and muttering and the roll of wheels over tile floor competed with the decisive _click_ of her heels. Mira dodged a nurse pushing a lunch cart and a patient—an old man with fluffy blue slippers and a head of matted and thin hair—and slid into Lisanna's room.

Her sister didn't look at her immediately, her face trapped between the palms of a tall man with long hair plaited down his back. With it tied back like that, Mira was clearly able to see the keloid scars over his cheeks and his neck, skin that had been sliced open, packed with ash and allowed to heal again, and then tattooed dark blue.

Her skin exploded in goose bumps as she watched him brush Lisanna's feathery hair back from her cheeks. " _Sei bella_ , Lisanna."

"Do you think so?"

" _Si. Tua sorella_. Like your sister." His eyes moved over to the door and captured Mira. " _Bella._ That's why she makes such a good whore."


	21. Chapter 21

_Whore._ Mira felt all of the blood rush to her head.

The man took his hands from Lisanna's cheeks. "I was just educating your sister about the brothels here in Magnolia," he drawled. "A lot has changed since she's been admitted. They never used to be legal. Girls like you used to have to do such dangerous work."

Mira loosened her fist when she felt her nails bite into her palm. "Thank God for the law."

"Thank God for greedy politicians," he corrected.

Lisanna's baby blues came Mira's way. "Is it true, Mira? Do you work for a brothel?"

Though she was scared and ashamed, Mira stood straight. "It pays well." This was _not_ how she imagined telling her sister she was a whore. Actually, if it were up to her, she _never_ would have.

The man's mouth lifted slyly as he caught her in another lie. Mira rubbed her palms on her tights. "Can I help you, Mister?"

"I'm known to many as Black Dragon, but you, Mira, _il mio amore_ , may call me Acnologia." The words just rolled off his tongue. They seeped into Mira's skin and into her bones and made her head fuzzy and her heart beat hard and her palms sweaty with fear, and that fucking little troll that sat on her shoulder that was a _slave_ for danger unfurled.

_This is serious_. There was no reason why Zeref's rival and Elfman's one-time employer should be _here._ And yet, here he was. "Why are you here?"

"To invite you to _Prodiguer._ Normally, I would have gone the traditional route to acquire your company, but you're a difficult woman to find these days, without a Matriarch to govern you."

"Mira?" Lisanna asked from the bed.

"Not now, Lisanna," Mira said sharply.

Lisanna's face, ingénue just a moment ago, snapped down in an expression teetering on the crest of rage. She had a pencil in her hand that she snapped upon hearing Mira's frustration. It took so little to provoke her these days. "Is he a bad man?"

Mira envisioned Lisanna lashing out like she was prone to do. She licked her lips and lied and lied and lied. "No." To Acnologia, she said, "When did you want to go?"

"Now." He didn't seem concerned with Lisanna's hollowed expression. Nor did he seem concerned with the pencil the girl gripped so tight, blood leaked from the palm of her hand. Mira was, though.

"Alright."

"Mira—"

"I'll come back, Lisanna. I'm sorry. We'll visit after and we'll—we'll talk about what you want to talk about."

Lisanna's lip wobbled. "Don't leave with him."

"I'll be back."

"She'll return to you." Acnologia rested his palm against Lisanna's cheek. That was his first mistake. His second was thinking Lisanna wasn't capable of causing him pain. She had his hand slapped away and was standing, fist raised with the broken pencil in her palm, aimed at his heart in less time than it took Mira to draw breath. Mira reacted before Acnologia could decide what to do next—dodge? Hurt Lisanna?—and put herself in the way. She felt hotness on her cheek as Lisanna's fist arced downward and the pencil scraped her skin. Last second, Lisanna shifted her hand, leaving Mira with a gouge beneath her eye and not a hole in her face.

Lisanna adjusted with a growl and pushed Mira out of the way. Mira fell, unable to catch herself in her high heels, and met the ground unceremoniously. "Lisanna!" Her sister's name popped out of her mouth with breathy surprise. Lisanna heard her not at all. She was gunning for Acnologia again and this time, he wasn't so stunned. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed it so hard that Lisanna gasped and dropped her pencil.

Shoes squeaked over the tiled floor and then nurses in scrubs were rushing into the room. Two of them grabbed Lisanna by the arms and, when she resisted, lifted her up and slammed her back into her bed. Lisanna screamed like an animal all the way up until one of the nurses jammed her arm with a needle with enough sedative in it to knock out an elephant. In seconds, Lisanna's eyes went dull. Her muscles relaxed and her head rolled on the thin pillow. Her eyes found Mira. Mira couldn't look at her for too long, Acnologia stepped in front of her and extended his hand.

Mira realized that there was talking in the room. Nurses were ushering them out. And she had to get off the floor. She didn't accept Acnologia's hand, not wanting to upset Lisanna anymore, and got clumsily to her feet. She didn't look back at her catatonic sister. She didn't even pay attention to Acnologia at her side, matching her steps with his long legs, not until they stopped at the elevator and he offered her a handkerchief from the pocket of the expensive navy suit he wore. Mira used it to wipe her stinging cheek. It came away red.

"It's not very bad."

Bad enough.

"If you want, we could ask the nurses to clean and bandage it."

"I just want to leave," Mira said.

"My car's out front."

A look and she knew that he wouldn't take no for an answer. She was quiet in the elevator and so was he, standing with his keloid scarred hands clasped before him, his eyes, green like the sea, fixed on the camera in the upper corner of the elevator. Mira was sad when the machine slowed and the doors slid open and they stepped out of the relative safety that piece of equipment offered. Men like Acnologia were camera shy when it came to doing awful things.

_Shy in general._ His being there _personally_ didn't sit well with her at all.

His arm locked around her waist and he cut a path through the busy hospital. Mira thought of the last time she'd walked through there with a man at her side. Laxus Dreyar was a long way away, his danger a much different kind than Acnologia's. Acnologia was lawless like Zeref Dragneel. And not. There was a wildness to him that Zeref didn't have. Mira dug her fingers into her clasped forearms.

At the front of the hospital, the automatic door opened and welcomed them into the grey outside. Mira clutched her jacket tighter to her body. It didn't matter that the leather blocked out the wind, it did nothing for the cold. Her skin was uncomfortable in seconds. It only got worse as a black Mercedes-Maybach S600 pulled up to the curb in the 'no parking' zone. Acnologia didn't seem to care much about things like 'no parking'. Mira supposed when you had as much money as he did, you didn't have to.

Acnologia pulled the door open for her and waved her on inside. The smell of leather wrapped around her. She slid over as far as she could go. Acnologia got in and allowed her some space, staying on the opposite side of the car.

In the front seat, a man with a driver's cap kept his eyes forward as Acnologia said, " _Prodiguer_."

Mira half expected him to add 'Jeeves.' But no. Acnologia was not a humorous man. "Why am I here?" She wished her voice was stronger.

His eyes came her way. "So you can be my whore."

_I am the dirt you created_

_I am your sinner_

_And your whore_

Mira shook the lyrics from her head. "If you wanted to hire me—"

"Everything will be explained to you, Mirajane. For now, know that I put great value on silence," Acnologia said.

Mira took the hint and pressed her cheek to the window.

* * *

Jellal had seen a church defiled in every way imaginable. Drugs snorted off altars, people strung up and strung out on pews, orgies and the unorthodox all mingling together in the walls of the Prayer. But this. Seeing Kardia Cathedral torn open, an animal with an unhealable wound, seemed like the biggest sin of all.

He stepped over a mound of rubble in shoes that weren't meant for this kind of thing and felt a nail stick into his treads before he ever had the opportunity to step on it fully and skewer himself. He balanced and yanked it out, throwing the piece of sharp metal back into the pile. Incident reports were _not_ his forte and he never wanted them to be.

Beside him, Laxus unceremoniously kicked a hunk of brick and sent it spinning. Jellal wanted to tell him to be more careful with the church's property but who the fuck was he to say? It wasn't like if God was real, he'd overlook all of the 'shades of grey' Jellal had done because he told his partner not to kick a goddamn brick.

Laxus pinched his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. Without the roof on the church and with most of its walls missing, he'd taken to smoking 'indoors'. Jellal didn't bother telling him to knock it off. If he thought he could handle it, he'd be chain smoking, too. Anything to keep himself _distracted_ as one of the technicians, a girl with glasses and ombre purple hair in a high bun, took the key that had been found on Father Buchanan's body and approached the door they'd discovered beneath the floorboards of the confessional twenty-five minutes before.

"What do you think's inside?"

A new voice stole Jellal's chance to answer. "Have you always speculated, Detective?"

Jellal turned his head and took in Superintendent Tores. He was in a suit this time, his hair tied back, his tie snug against his throat. Jellal's mind churned. He didn't look to Laxus to make sure that his poker face was in play. He had to make sure his _own_ was something worthy. "Sir. I wasn't aware that you were making a site visit."

"Performance reviews are coming up," Tores said with a smile that made the skin at the edges of his eyes crinkle. Jellal tried to imagine him strangling the life out of girls. He tried to imagine him sewing their skin with wire. He tried to imagine Tores making a crown of thorns and resting it on their heads. It was hard. The man had upheld the law for so long. Zero unsolved cases. He had a real respect for the law and the system.

_So how_?

Perhaps it was that respect that was his undoing?

_You don't have proof yet._ Jumping to conclusions was Laxus' gig. Jellal always tried to keep his mind clear until he had all the facts. He didn't want to do sloppy police work.

"In that case," Laxus said, "stick around. I have a feeling we're about to turn up something good."

"I hope you're right." Tores smiled and Jellal could stop looking for the killer.

Before Jellal even heard the lock disengage, he knew he didn't want that door opened. There was no stopping it, the technician was already swinging it back. Metal moaned. The smell snuck out first. Rotten iron. It stuck to Jellal's nostrils and dragged him down, down, down. The technician made a good play at being impartial, yet, her face went green before she pulled her shit together.

"What is it?" Laxus asked.

The girl stepped aside so Jellal could see past her body. A set of stairs led down ten feet to a room that was lit by red hydroponic lights. Jellal didn't see her at first. Later, he'd imagine that was because he didn't _want_ to. No. His eyes moved to the roses growing along the walls, tall vines that looped and coiled with thorns long and sharp. Every now and again was a rose the colour of pink sunsets. The vines led him to the front of the small room. To the altar.

Laxus swore and grabbed the back of Jellal's jacket before he ever really registered exactly what he was seeing. By the time Laxus had pulled him back from the edge several feet, Jellal knew that it was a _person_ he was looking at. A woman.

She was without clothes and yet it was the absence of her head scarf that made _Tante_ Alba look naked. Her hair was short and impossibly curly, the locks twisted together like scorched chain and resting against her paled face. Jellal had seen enough dead people to know what they looked like.

No one said, 'Call an ambulance' because they thought she could be helped. That was only to appease protocol. Someone new said 'Call the coroner, too.' Jellal wanted to shoot that person.

"Come on." Laxus was pushing him back. Jellal stumbled to keep his footing and staggered toward Tores. When he met the man's eyes, Tores looked professionally sympathetic, but behind the 'cop face' was a coldness that Jellal memorized because _that's_ what a killer looked like. Jellal lurched forward, not thinking about _why_ ; Laxus held him still and covered up the motion by making it look like he was supporting Jellal's weight.

"Easy."

He didn't want to fucking _be_ _easy._

"Did you know that woman, Detective?" Tores asked.

Jellal didn't think he could speak. He did, though. "Everyone makes mistakes. This is your biggest." There wasn't a brain cell in his head dedicated to preserving any fronts. He didn't think about what would happen if Tores knew that he knew. He _couldn't._ The only thing he could do was get the fuck out of there. He pushed roughly away from Laxus and left _Tante_ Alba's killer standing there with a vague smile on his face.

No walls on the church meant that Jellal could escape without hindrance. The only thing that slowed him down were other officers trying to speak to him. He bowled past them all and didn't stop until he was at his Charger. He didn't go for the driver's seat. That felt too confining. He went for the trunk and pressed his palms against the cold metal and let his head hang between his arms.

He _breathed_. In and out. in and out. _In and out._ The ground spun viciously. The wind whipped by, bringing with it the smell of powdered brick, blood. Sin.

It stuck to the back of his throat and permeated every fiber of his being.

_I'm going to puke,_ he thought and swallowed a mouthful of saliva. _I'm not_. He bit his cheek _hard._ He hadn't been this bad since his first child case when he'd been investigating the murder of a young girl. Her father had hacked her to bits and left her to rot in the basement.

Thinking of that had been a _mistake._ Sweat drenched his brow.

A hand landed on his shoulder, solid and sure. There was an instant where Jellal thought it was Tores. He clenched his fist, ready to stand and strike the man until he stopped moving. Then Laxus spoke. "There's no damage controlling this. He knows we're on to him."

That had been a mistake that hopefully wouldn't cost them anymore. "He'll know what's coming for him then." Jellal only wished Tores would be scared instead of vague and cocky.

"Sorry, man. About _Tante_ Alba."

Jellal took in a noisy breath through his nose. The world stopped spinning so he stood straight slowly. "He's going to pay."

"He will. We should go talk to Somnium's Matriarch before this gets to Ultear and she pulls us off the case." Just as Laxus stopped speaking, Jellal's phone started ringing. He ignored it. Laxus' went off next. He was less inclined to let it go to voicemail. Jellal glanced at the screen before Laxus could answer. It was the office. Laxus visibly warred with himself and then he put the phone back in his pocket.

"Let's go."

It likely wasn't wise that Jellal got into the driver's seat. He needed to do _something_ , though. Not just sit in the passenger's seat and _think_ about how _Tante_ Alba suffered for no other reason than _just because_. He started the car and drove too fast.

* * *

Mira wondered if the _Closed for Private Function_ sign ever made its way out of _Prodiguer's_ window. It wasn't sun-bleached but anytime she'd walked past the place, it had been there for all of the pedestrians to see. Unless Acnologia wanted you to enter, no one stepped foot over the threshold.

Never before had she felt so self-conscious of her clothing as she walked up the stairs. Zeref always wanted her to look good when they went out and they always went to places of this caliber, sure, but this time was _different._ Acnologia was _different_. He stayed out of the media even more than Zeref did, ruling his empire with an efficiency that was unparalleled. He had no weaknesses as far as Mira could tell. There was no younger brother, no son, nothing to humanize him. There was only his money and his drugs.

Mira had never been more nervous in her life. Not even when she had to explain to the police that _yes,_ Elfman had killed Lisanna's attackers and _yes,_ he was gone and _no,_ she didn't know where he went _to._ The only thing that had gotten her through that day was the truth. Elfman had disappeared and didn't contact her again until years later when he figured that it was safe once more. By that time, he was working for Zeref. He was mean and he was cold and he was more cunning than she'd ever considered possible.

_See? You've seen cold men before,_ she thought as she watched Acnologia's back. _You can do this. You've lain with them, you've danced with them, you've told lies to them. And you've enjoyed it._ All she had to do was go in, figure out what he wanted, _do_ it, and get out again.

There was no concierge. Acnologia pulled a key from his pants pocket and unlocked the door. Inside was abandoned, too. Mira's nerves skyrocketed. She rubbed her palms on her pants again before following him inside. The door closed. It was locked. Acnologia didn't bother turning on any of the lights while he moved between tables, Mira in tow. Mira looked at _everything._ The bar, the paintings, the shining floor, the tables with their squares of white cloth and their red as sin roses in the center. It was everything she thought it _should_ be whenever she thought of entering Magnolia's most chichi restaurant. In her mind, when she'd arrive, she'd be in a beautiful dress, her hair would be plaited elaborately, she _wouldn't_ have a scabbing cut on her cheek gifted to her from Lisanna in one of her fits of rage, and she'd be on the arm of a handsome man. Though the last of her criteria was filled, Mira would have settled for literally _anyone_ else.

"Are you nervous?" Acnologia asked over the sound of his footsteps on the dark wood floor.

"Should I be?" She tried for flirtatious. She got anxious instead.

"That depends on how our conversation goes I presume," Acnologia said without missing a beat.

Mira's already dry mouth went drier still. She wanted to run instead of enter a glass room at the back of the dining room and yet, she walked with all of the authority of someone who had made their bed and was willing to lie in it.

More than anything, she wished she'd taken Erza's knife. There was no going back.

In the center of the room was a table dressed with a tablecloth, a bottle of wine, a vase of roses, and a basket of bread. Mira took off her jacket so she didn't sweat to death, hot now that she was inside. Acnologia pulled out one chair and ushered her in, and then threw her way off course when he sat down beside her, not across, pulling his chair close enough that Mira could feel his body heat through his suit jacket.

He didn't seem quite comfortable, though. He adjusted, digging a gun out from beneath his jacket and setting it on the table within reach. Mira eyed the weapon. A tremor moved through her that she couldn't hide. Acnologia smiled. " _Bella Mira, non essere spaventata_."

_Don't be frightened._ She _was_. She licked her lips, tasting the remnants of the cherry coloured lipstick she'd used earlier.

Acnologia said, "I can get you something to help with the nerves. Wine? _Cocaina_?"

"Wine." The word squeaked out.

His hands were sure as he gathered up the open bottle and poured rich red liquid into stemless glasses so thin, Mira thought she'd break it when she put it to her lips. It stayed together while she drank the liquid back. It was only _after_ it was in her stomach that she wondered if she shouldn't have worried if it was drugged.

Then Acnologia poured himself a glass and sipped and some of her tension fell away.

"Your brother is in jail."

"I know."

"That is unfortunate."

"He won't speak against you," Mira said in a rush.

His fingers on her cheek were cold. He searched her eyes. "No. He won't. Elfman knows if he does, everything he holds dear in this world will be…" he waved his hand, searching for the word. " _Estinto_. Extinguished," he repeated when he'd found it. "Like a candle."

"Is that why you came to see Lisanna?"

He shook his head. " _No._ That was for _your_ benefit. I know Elfman loves both his sisters too much to ever betray me. What I don't know is if his sisters feel the same way. Your brother is a bad man and you, Miss Strauss, are trying so desperately to be _good_. Lisanna… she's the linchpin."

"What do you want from me?"

He slid the gun her way.

Mira hardly believed he was giving her a weapon. She didn't want to touch it in case it was a trap. She did anyway because she was so scared. Acnologia didn't flinch. Mira turned the metal over in her hands. It was still warm from Acnologia's body.

"Once we're done here, I want you to go to Zeref Dragneel. I want you to silence him and I want you to silence Natsu and afterward, I want you to drop this gun in the river and your family will be safe."

_Natsu…_ "…Why?"

"Zeref's biggest crime is knowing too much," Acnologia said. "Don't make that yours as well."

She put the gun back on the table, thinking maybe it wasn't loaded or maybe it was a test to see what she'd do with it. "I don't know if Zeref will see me." Or if she could kill him. She wasn't a killer. Even the _thought_ of it made her hands quiver and her breath come short.

"He will."

"How do you know?"

"He's just discovered some very disturbing news about his son and with Elfman in jail, he's feeling… strained. Your company will be what he's looking for."

"But—"

He didn't yell, he didn't touch her. He only leaned in so she could smell the wine on his breath. "You're not here to ask questions. You're here to do as I say. Arrive under the guise of asking for help for your brother. Get him alone to make things easier on yourself and then do what you're meant to do. If you mention me, all of the remaining Strausses will suffer."

Mira went to rise. Acnologia grabbed her thigh tightly and pushed her back down into her seat. "We're not through."

Mira's voice was a whisper. "There's something else?"

The doors at the far end of the room opened and a server walked in with a tray piled high with food. " _Mangia_ , Mira. My chef has been cooking for you all morning."

She'd never felt less hungry. When the antipasto sat down in front of her, she tried thinking of ways to get around eating it. Acnologia watched her _carefully_ and wasn't satisfied until she took a bite. It was probably delicious; it tasted like sawdust to Mira, though. All she could think of was Natsu and Zeref and Lisanna and Elfman. What everyone's life was _worth_ and how she'd never been very good at setting monetary values.

When she was through, she was shown out of the back like a vagrant, her purse heavy with a gun, and forced to walk all the way to the Dragneel manor in her high heels. Along the way, she fought viciously with herself, a war that seemed to not have any winning sides. Halfway there and crossing the river, she'd made up her mind, cried and wiped her face of tears. She redid her makeup in the bathroom of a coffee shop and got on her way again. By the time she got there, her feet were bleeding, her toes were crunched up, and her back hurt.

The last hurdle to mount was pressing the button at the gate. It didn't seem so bad when she thought about Lisanna catatonic on her mattress, her hand bleeding and her eyes dull.

Zeref didn't question her appearance. In fact, he didn't say a word through the speaker, though she was sure it was he that allowed her entry. Mira took her shoes off to walk up the long driveway and knew her first bout of relief in hours.

At the house, Zeref answered the door with hands that were raw from scrubbing. His shirt was open; he'd been in the process of shucking it off. Likely to burn it, if Mira was to guess. In flame, the blood that was on his collar would never incriminate him.

_I've known bad men_ , Mira thought as he invited her in without a word. They seemed to be the only kind of man she _ever_ knew.

* * *

Aside from asking about Somnium's Matriarch, Laxus hadn't said much on the drive, so, so _careful_ to steer clear of what they found in Kardia Cathedral. Jellal was grateful. If he didn't think about it, he didn't want to _scream_ and turn the car back around and fill Tores up with as many bullets as he could manage. Mow him down and reload again.

Somnium's parking lot was absolutely empty. That in itself was unnerving. He parked his car right by the entrance, figuring if they needed to get out of there quick, this was the best place to situate themselves.

"Are you nervous?"

"I don't know what I'm feeling right now." Jellal kept his eyes trained on the hood of his car. Without the noise of the road, he heard his phone ring again. He took it out of his pocket, held down the top button until the screen blacked out Ultear's name, and threw the phone unceremoniously over his shoulder into the back seat. He didn't wince when it clattered against the window, hoping it would break.

Laxus sighed. "It'll be amazing if we don't get fired."

"It'll be amazing if I give a fuck," Jellal said.

Laxus had been working on a joke. It fizzled. Somnium's front door opened and Kyouka stepped out. her tawny hair was snatched up by the wind and lifted like a sand storm. She eyed the Charger as she eyed everything: they were prey. This was her web. Laxus said, "You want me to do the talking?"

Jellal sucked in a breath so deep, his lungs hurt. "I'm good."

"You're—"

" _Good_ ," he said with decisiveness and threw open his door. Movement helped smother the burning he'd been carrying in his lungs.

"Evening, Detectives," Kyouka said. "How… Nice to see you again."

"Kyouka." Laxus nodded; Jellal was glad that one of them remembered how to greet someone. _Good, remember?_ He vowed to do better. After all, without _Tante_ Alba telling everyone not to put a bullet between his eyes, who knew how long he'd last on Homicide stumbling and mumbling and forgetting his manners?

"Detective." Kyouka addressed Jellal directly. "I was sorry to hear about _Tante_ Alba."

Jellal's throat was so tight, he couldn't speak. Laxus again saved him the trouble. "That's curious, Kyouka, we only just found her."

She didn't smile or play games. "One of the technicians working in the cathedral is a known associate."

"I don't suppose you're willing to say who?" Laxus asked.

Jellal didn't _care._ He should. But he didn't.

"Come. It's rude to keep a lady waiting," was Kyouka's answer.

Again, moving helped keep the looming rage at bay. Jellal used it mercilessly and wondered what he was going to do once he got inside? Pace like a bear? Drum his fingers annoyingly on the bar? The Matriarch would kick him out without any answers.

He practiced breathing again. _In and out._

Inside, Imagine Dragon's _Believer_ played lowly on the speakers and the blue string lights were on. By their glow, Jellal saw that the stage was empty, so were the tables. A woman stood behind the bar, hair as purely red as rubies resting against the glittering black dress she wore. Her mouth matched. Her eyes belonged to Erza, darkly lined but _cold_ like Erza's weren't. That was unless Erza had a gun in her hand and she was shooting a man that had left too many marks on her skin.

Jellal heard Laxus swear beneath his breath. His partner had to believe what he saw and that was an unequivocal resemblance between Erza and the woman before them now. "You were on the stage the last time I was here," Laxus said. "Singing."

The woman leaned on the bar. Her hair was fire falling over the dark wood. "The night you were shot in my parking lot. I see you've made a recovery, Detective. I'm not sure congratulations are in order. Seems since then, you've had more bad luck."

Laxus touched the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you, Kyouka, that will be all." The woman's voice was caramelized sugar.

" _Tante—_ " It was _strange_ hearing Kyouka bestow that title to another woman when it had belonged to her for so _long._

"Leave us."

Kyouka bowed her head and retreated. Outside light snuck in when she slipped from the front door. The lock engaged and then they were alone.

"Gentlemen. My name is Eileen. I own this establishment."

"Dreyar, Fernandez," Laxus said impatiently and put himself down on the barstool without being asked. "Thanks for meeting with us—"

"Acnologia stripped us of our weapons," Jellal heard himself say. Laxus' _'the fuck are you giving her ideas for'_ look rolled over him like water on metal. "Don't you want to do the same?"

"Acnologia is a man afraid. I won't belittle myself like that. After all, a man is a man. He bleeds, he dies, just like everyone else. Sit, Detective Fernandez."

Jellal sat like a tinman.

Laxus picked up where he left off. "We have some questions we want to ask—"

"There will be time for questions." Eileen interrupted him again. She reached beneath the bar. Jellal tensed. She only brought out three glasses and filled them all with single malt scotch. "Detective. I am sorry for your loss. _Tante_ Alba deserved better than to die at the Cardinal's hands." She pushed the glass his way.

"We're on duty—" Laxus started. Jellal already drank his back. It was supposed to be sipped and burned his stomach but it also burned out the tight and hot feeling behind his eyes.

"The Cardinal will pay for what he's done."

"You're a passionate man, Detective." Her eyes were as hard as diamonds. "And I have a penchant for ultraviolence."

* * *

Erza sat on the couch, a piece of chocolate melting on her tongue while she stared premeditatedly at her phone, willing it to ring. Willing it to be her mother. Willing her to say, _'You were right, Erza. He was awful. I slit his throat and left him for the scavengers'_ , not because Erza _wanted_ Jellal to be found wanting but because she didn't know what it meant if he _wasn't_. For her or for him.

When her phone finally _did_ buzz, Erza almost choked on her chocolate. She coughed to get it out of her throat and picked up her phone. On the screen was Mira's name and a picture of her taken at Magnolia Falls last October. She smiled in that photo, her hair done up and glittering in the sun, her face clear of all makeup but some lip gloss.

Mira hated that photo. It was Erza's favourite.

She answered before her phone could go to voicemail, though her voice was thready after coughing so roughly. "Hey."

"Erza?" Mira sounded scared on the other end of the line.

Erza sat up straight. "What is it?"

Mira's breath came short. She was walking, Erza thought. Or running. "I—I did something—something really crazy and I need help."


	22. Chapter 22

Over the connection, Erza's voice sounded distant and tinny. "Something crazy?"

No matter what Mira did, how far she walked from Zeref's home, she felt like she could never leave the room he'd led her to. She couldn't get the image of all that blood out of her mind. Where was Rahkeid beneath the carnage? She knew to look for him because she saw the rosary he clutched in his wet hands but she couldn't make sense of _anything_.

In her mind, Zeref's words replayed again and again as he relayed in a voice colder than the coldest winter night, "This house has seen enough bloodshed for today."

"Mira?" Erza prodded from the other end of the line.

Mira drew in a breath of damp spring air. The grey sky was soon going to gift the ground with rain. She had minutes before she was soaked and her leather jacket and bare feet just _weren't_ going to cut it.

"Are you okay?"

"I have to get my sister out of the hospital and I need help, Erza." Mira knew she was talking _too loud_. If there was anyone on Zeref's property to hear her speaking, they'd know but she couldn't wrangle in her volume; she was too tense. "I need some place to keep her safe. I don't know what to do. I didn't kill him. Acnologia is going to be coming after me and Zeref, too, and I don't know what to do—"

Erza didn't ask any questions and barely hesitated before she said, "I might know a place to keep you and your sister safe. I'll meet you at the hospital."

Mira almost cried. She held it together. "Thank you."

Erza hung up.

Despite her coolness—it was no secret Erza wanted to keep herself reserved and this very much violated that boundary—Mira dropped her cellphone back into her purse feeling _relieved_. The device hit against the gun Acnologia gave her and clanked loudly. She flinched and took it out while she scuttled down the pine-lined driveway. While attempting to find an appropriate tree to throw the weapon beneath, she spotted a figure approaching her, cutting across the grounds and coming onto the driveway with long, purposeful steps. Her blood pressure rose, even _after_ she identified Natsu in his open-halfway-down-his-chest dress shirt, dark so it wouldn't show the blood, and slacks that had at some point during the day been unwrinkled. The blood on his body was thicker than Zeref's had been. The gun Mira clutched bothered him not at all; he wasn't shy closing the space between them and taking her by the shoulders with hands that were cracked and red and raw. It was then Mira realized that she'd stopped walking like an idiot.

His eyes scoured through her. "That's what he does to people he loves, and that was just because of a rumor, Mira. Someone said Rahkeid was involved with the Cardinal and Zeref tore him apart."

_'So just imagine what he'll do to you for trying to shoot him'_ , Mira filled in. She had to work moisture into her mouth before she could say not, ' _it looks like you did the tearing'_ but, "Is he going to kill me?"

Natsu's silence was terrifying. Lisanna's childhood love had been slipping away for years but just then, looking into his eyes, Mira saw the last of Natsu Dragneel's carefree spirit die. "It won't be Zeref that comes after you."

No. With Elfman gone, it was Natsu carrying out the rough work. Mira jarred out of his grasp. He caught her and pulled her back so roughly, she almost fell. He saved her the trouble of picking herself up again by keeping her steady while he plucked the gun from her hands. Through gritted teeth, he wondered, "Did you think we wouldn't know?"

"Acnologia threatened Lisanna," Mira offered as a weak plea. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Not make the same mistakes your brother did. Come to me. Now..." He turned the gun around in his hands. "I love her, Mira. I don't know if it's enough to keep you safe." He was absolutely serious. "You should leave while I'm still undecided."

Mira wondered if he and Zeref practiced the stoic routine together, if they knew that their apathy was far more terrifying than any intense threat or show of rage could be. Her skin was crawling when she jerked out of his hold the second time. No one stopped her running down the driveway. No bullets found her back. At the road, the sky dropped its first bit of rain. Mira ran faster. She still got soaked.

Every car that drove past with their wipers going and their tires kicking up long rooster-tails of water made her jump. She kept expecting to hear the sudden _brap_ of bullets flying out of a semi-automatic weapon. She kept expecting to feel the numb sting when one of them sank into her leg or her chest. She thought she knew for sure some were coming. The question remained, would it be Natsu's or Acnologia's guns as soon as he discovered that she was incapable of completing her task?

Every moment that passed in relative safety only made her _tenser._ In her hand, her high heels snapped together while her bare feet bit into the cold, wet and filthy concrete. More than once, she stepped on a stone that left bruises in her soles. She'd wallow over the pain _later_ after she'd gotten back to the hospital. After she was back out in the street with Lisanna. After she was away from anyone that might want to hurt them.

Erza's hair was a beacon in the grey daylight. She stood in front of the hospital building beneath a huge black umbrella, eyes roving the streaming crowd. There were too many people. Mira thought _maybe_ that was a good thing. No one would shoot her if there were so many people around, right?

She could almost hear Elfman in her ear, berating her for her naivety. She silently told him to fuck off, he hadn't done any good for she or Lisanna lately, all he was ever doing was running away from his guilt or sitting in jail.

Erza's eyes fixed on her. Several emotions flitted over the girl's face: annoyance, gladness. Fear. Mira pushed past a woman with a stroller, a man with his head in his phone, a boy on a skateboard that Mira sent flying when he didn't _move._ Mira said something that might have been an apology, and then she was at Erza's side. She took Erza's hand not because Erza passed it over but because she just _needed_ to.

"Thank you."

No, ' _you're welcome'_ came her way. Erza was focused on something much larger than that. Her hand lifted and touched Mira's cheek. Where her fingers caressed stung. "What happened?"

Mira brushed her hand aside. "It doesn't matter."

"Mira."

"It was Lisanna, okay?" Mira said shortly. "She was upset. But she doesn't do it always," she added in case Erza decided that it was too much and walked away. "She was just scared. Acnologia—"

Erza's lips disappeared. "Let's hurry up."

The relief she felt made her knees weak. Mira tugged on her heels again to her feet's chagrin and led the way into the hospital, never once letting go of Erza's hand. People looked at Mira's soggy clothes and running makeup and gave her a wide berth. That was just fine.

Alone in the elevator, Erza prodded, "Tell me what happened."

Mira was all too happy to share the burden. "Acnologia was waiting in Lisanna's room this morning. He took me to his restaurant where he gave me a gun and told me to go shoot Zeref and Natsu Dragneel. If I didn't, he threatened my family."

Erza didn't look absolutely shocked. It was her indifference that _really_ made Mira question not just her life decisions but her lifestyle. Being a whore was one thing. Bouncing between crime lords? No one ever remained neutral. That's what got girls killed, that and because at some point, you'd have to choose sides.

"Then what?"

It was easier if she didn't look at Erza while she spoke. "I went to see Zeref." She remembered him opening the door, his collar stained with blood, his hands red and raw. "Acnologia said to seduce him, ask for help with Elfman, and then kill him so he didn't get suspicious." It was _surreal_ recounting her afternoon. It was like it had happened to someone else. She never thought of herself as a killer before. Even when Lisanna had been hurt and she felt murderous; it was _Elfman_ that had come around to do the rough work, _Elfman_ that had the resolve. After watching her brother spiral into that decay, she never thought she was capable.

Erza pressed, "And then?"

They were nearing their destination and their privacy was on a timer. Mira hurried to finish. "Zeref… he was being strange. He invited me in but he never said anything. I don't know why I didn't say anything either. It was like the words just got caught in my throat. We went to Rahkeid's room and he didn't turn on the light. I could smell it, though."

"It?"

"All the blood." The night Elfman had bludgeoned those boys to death for date raping Lisanna, she'd become acquainted with the smell, rich and full of iron, heady. "He didn't say _anything,_ Erza. Not a damn thing. Just showed me his murdered son. I don't know how he knew I was coming for him but he _did_ and showed me that as a—a warning or something. He was trying to scare me." And it fucking _worked._ She thought she'd never been more afraid of anyone in her life. And yet, as she was racing through the streets to get to the hospital, she thought maybe she was afraid of Acnologia in the same way.

"Zeref's resourceful. He probably has people working for Acnologia that are loyal to him," Erza said coolly like she just _knew._ "And then?"

"And then I got the hell out of there. Natsu was in the driveway. He threatened me and took my gun. I thought he was going to shoot me. I think _he_ thought he was going to shoot me. He told me to get out of there while he was still feeling conflicted."

The elevator dinged.

Erza sighed. "Every time I see you, you're—"

Mira waited for her to finish, for the sting that would follow.

Erza let the words fall away. "Come on. Let's just get your sister. I'll call a cab and then—we'll figure out a place to stay."

"Thank you, Erza," Mira said.

Erza's face was in her phone so she didn't have to reply. Though they weren't allowed to have cell phones in this part of the hospital, Erza didn't care. She made her phone call by the large bay window next to the elevator and Mira stood at her side, afraid to go for Lisanna, (what if she was having another fit? Or worse, what if she wasn't _there?_ What if Acnologia _knew_ and came to collect her?)

The next elevator over chimed. Mira tensed until she saw a woman step out in a fuchsia cloche hat, her pale hair tucked up beneath the hanging brim. Mira directed her attention at Erza once more. "Thank you," Erza was saying. She hung up the phone with a decisive press of her thumb and stuffed it back into her purse again. "What room is she in?"

"It's this way." Mira took point. From the nurse's station, Nancy looked up.

"Miss Strauss, we weren't expecting you back today."

Mira said, "I need the forms for Lisanna's discharge. I'm transferring her."

"Transferring?" Nancy repeated. "Whatever for? Has our care been inadequate?"

Mira lied. "I think a change of scenery will do her good."

"Miss Strauss—"

The elevator trilled again, setting Mira's skin to crawling. "Please."

Nancy chewed on her cheek. "Try to understand, she's in a delicate state, an abrupt change could—"

" _Now,_ " Erza verily roared.

Nancy looked shocked, then she looked affronted and concerned.

"Please," Mira added in the interest of being diplomatic.

Nancy's lip curled but she _did_ do as Mira asked and started getting the discharge papers together, setting them one after the other on the top of the reception desk.

"Thank you," Mira said.

Erza said, "I'll go get your sister if you start working on those sheets."

Mira paused with the pen just inches over the paper. "She might not be okay with a stranger."

"She'll be fine," Erza retorted.

Mira would have argued more if she didn't feel a guillotine dropping on her. She pointed out the room and hoped for the best.

* * *

Jellal's head was feeling fuzzy and it wasn't because of the scotch. At least, not entirely. He felt retreated into himself, _in_ Somnium's empty bar but mostly _not_. The place his mind occupied lived beneath Kardia Cathedral where _Tante_ Alba breathed her last. Where the Superintendent had carried out his perverse justice. _Tante_ Alba had given up whoring years ago but wasn't she the very _embodiment_ of sin? Living and working in the Prayer, making a living off sacrilege?

_You should have seen this coming._ He thought he would have normally, under different circumstances. He was sharper than that. He was distracted, though. Between Laxus getting targeted, Erza's sudden and disrupting reappearance and his feudal juggling of his home and work life...

_And now…_

He could hear _Tante_ Alba in his head telling him not to dwell on the past. What was done could never be undone. He knew that. He did. The human condition made him linger. The wound was too fresh to warrant stitching it up. It needed to _bleed._

_God._

"You're so far away, Detective." Eileen rubbed the pad of her finger over the rim of her stout whisky glass, making it sing a high-pitched tune.

Jellal heard Laxus say, "Give him some time, he'll come around."

"I suppose your mouth is big enough to ask all the questions."

Erza had been right. Her mother was mean, her voice and words good for cutting.

"He's better but I get by," Laxus said.

Jellal made his eyes focus and saw his partner wore a dangerous expression on his face. alert, yes, but also intrigued. He was fond of this woman with her veils and her hiding in plain sight. Her danger and her perfect lie. The more Kyouka whispered of her Matriarch's existence, the more people were inclined to disbelieve it. After all, Kyouka was the Spider. Kyouka was the face of Somnium. And Laxus, true to form, was obsessed with the lie because he, too, had been thoroughly fooled.

"Kind of you to bend over and take that one for him."

Laxus' mouth twitched. "That's what partners are for, right?"

"I suppose if they're a catatonic mess. If you just wanted to come and sit in my bar, Detective—"

Jellal blinked away the cobwebs and dug for the right address. "Forgive me, _Tante_ Eileen." Eyes that belonged to Erza landed on his. It was spooky how closely they resembled each other. Erza's description had been on the money again, though, Eileen was colder. Harder. Less open to tolerating his bullshit, that look said. She wasn't like Erza; he didn't think his smile would have any lasting effect on her.

"You're mourning." The soft edge she had to her voice earlier was _gone_. The time for honoring _Tante_ Alba had come and gone for her.

He struggled with his next words. Eventually, he said, "I didn't come here to mourn. I came here to catch _Tante_ Alba's killer."

"And what happens when you don't?" she wondered.

"I will. I won't stop until he's behind bars," or dead, Jellal added silently.

His words didn't seem to pacify her. "Have you ever been denied, Detective?"

"Denied?"

Nails, long and painted scarlet, scratched over the dark wooden countertop. She folded her hand around his empty scotch glass and took it away. "Something you want very, very badly is in front of you but just out of reach."

"Everyone has had something taken."

"And then?"

"And then _what_?"

"I'm interested in knowing what kind of man you are when the pressure get's... intense."

Jellal heard boots knocking over Somnium's floor. He kept his eyes on Eileen with one ear cocked for anything unusual, knowing that Laxus had his eye on their guest. "I don't want to play games, _Tante._ I want a lead that's going to give me the man that murdered _Tante_ Alba. I want to arrest him. I want to see if my Captain's in a forgiving mood and I want to pay my respect to the woman that gave me something when I had _nothing_."

The footsteps stopped. Laxus' hand lingered around his holster; he never drew his weapon so Jellal kept his focus solely on _Tante_ Eileen, who was now taking her finger from her cup's rim and straightening. To Jellal's surprise, she said, "I'll tell you what I can."

" _Thank_ you."

"Don't thank me. Having the gratitude of a Lawmen, even one that used to belong to _Tante_ Alba, is not something I hold in high regard."

Jellal was too distracted to be insulted. "Very well, tell me why you came to see the Captain."

"You've made a critical error in judgement, Detective."

"How so?"

"Assuming that _I_ was the one that visited."

Laxus took his eyes from their visitor. "It wasn't you?"

"I am very careful not to make such… careless errors."

"It was Kyouka then," Laxus assumed.

Eileen said, "I am willing to admit that she was absent from here."

" _Why_ would she do that?" Laxus then asked a question that made Jellal's blood boil. "Is she accusing him falsely? What does she stand to gain?"

"Falsely?" Eileen laughed. "No. Your Superintendent is _guilty_. Whether or not he's a _murderer_ , that I cannot say, but there are other crimes."

Jellal rasped, "Which?"

Eileen said, "For as long as I can remember, Black Dragon and Superintendent Tores have had a mutually beneficial business agreement. The Dragon distributes his snow and the Superintendent assures that it gets to where it's going without… issue. It's been unfair to the rest of us."

"That was until Fullbuster joined up," Laxus said. "Was that why Gray was framed?"

"I can't speak to that. The daughter and her mother are Kyouka's pets," Eileen said. "And that is as much as I care to be involved with anything Gray Fullbuster has touched."

"Let's get back to why Kyouka was at the station," Jellal said. "Did you send her there to swing the same deal with Tores?"

"Kyouka is ambitious all on her own."

"You look like you've set a few lofty goals yourself, _Tante_ ," Laxus said.

Eileen replied, "Absolutely. I've long thought Acnologia has had an unfair advantage over us. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I grow tired of his games."

Jellal wondered, "So you try to negotiate with Tores and he won't, so then you gun for his position to cripple Acnologia?"

She only stared at him. Laxus filled in the silence. "If the Superintendent _did_ go away for murder, his successor would be in a unique position. They might see things a little differently than Tores did. Choose their business partners a little better."

Eileen said, "Remember, those are your words, Detective, not mine."

"Then how about you use your own words to tell me you set him up," Laxus said.

"That sounds foolish."

"But not implausible."

"I have many connections and something like that would be within my capabilities, but Detective," she leaned in close and annunciated every word. "I would never do anything so… distasteful."

"Because you're too good for that, right?"

Laxus was playing with fire. Jellal wasn't feeling particularly _capable_ of telling him he was being stupid. He was too caught up. His jaw felt cinched from clenching his teeth so hard. He didn't believe it; he'd seen the look in Tores' eyes. "Tores isn't innocent."

"You're the detective, _you_ would know better than I."

"You wouldn't accuse him if you didn't have any proof."

She turned her palms skyward. "And yet, I have nothing."

"This is a fucking waste of time." Laxus stood.

Eileen pursed her lips. "Am I to take that as our conversation is through?"

"Unless you have something useful to say?"

Eileen looked beyond them. There came a click that Jellal knew too well. He tensed. Laxus went for his gun. Jellal caught his forearm before he could pull it out and they got filled full of holes. " _Tante_."

Eileen's face was a blank slate.

"This is going to get really messy really fast if you don't tell your man to put down his weapon," Jellal tried again.

"What do you think, Clive, will it be messy?"

"No, Ma'am," came a deep voice. Jellal wanted to look over his shoulder; he didn't want to take his eyes off Eileen, though. It was because his eyes were on her that when she nodded just slightly, he dove out of the way before the first bullet pierced the air.

* * *

Erza entered the hospital room cautiously. It still smelled like expensive cologne, but beneath that was the stench of hospital. It was the kind of smell that immortalized a very mortal thing: the fear of death.

The Psychiatric Ward was different than the others, less… dire, yet that stench _lingered_. Antiseptic, human waste and terror. Sweat and blood. And uncertainty, here in the land of the unknown where the enemy was not a pathogen but your own mind. As she found Mira's sister lying on the bed with her arms out straight and her hands gripped into fists at her hips, Erza thought that was the most terrifying enemy. Fuck cancer. Fuck heart disease. A person _knew_ what those wanted: to end you. Psychosis, though? Who the hell could say?

Lisanna's eyes followed Erza's progress into the room but she didn't speak. Erza realized that she was going to be the one that broke the ice. "Lisanna? I'm a friend of Mira's. She's out at reception right now filling out some forms because we're going to move you."

"Move me?" Her words were _slow_. She was doped up on something that made her disjoined.

"Yes. Someplace safer."

Lisanna's eyes focused. "Will Natsu be there?"

Natsu. Right. Mira had said. Now that she had a face to put to Natsu's ex-fiancé, the whole fiasco seemed so much _dirtier._ Erza's eyes dropped to the girl's fingers and saw that yes, she still wore a diamond of ridiculous size. "Um…"

"He told me the next time I leave the hospital it would be to go live with him."

Erza had to work to draw in breath. "Right."

"So he'll be there?"

Erza heard the decisive clicks of high heels over the linoleum floor outside and lied to speed things up. "Yes. You'll see him."

Lisanna donned a lazy smile. "Okay."

"Good." Erza asked, "Is there a bag around here to put your stuff in?"

Lisanna pointed lazily toward a closet. Erza tore it open and found a duffle bag stuffed into the bottom corner. She grabbed it out and started pulling things off the hanger, dresses and tops and pants folded over coat hangers, running shoes at the bottom. She tried to multitask, pulling out her cellphone and dialing her mother. The phone buzzed in her ear. She listened to it ring, attention divided between the footsteps out in the hall, Lisanna sitting up on her squeaking mattress, the clothes and remembering the last conversation she had with her mother. That changed as soon as the phone was answered.

"Erza?" Eileen's voice held a note of fever.

"Mum—"

Eileen cut her off. "Wait, Gildarts."

Erza toed the line between asking for an explanation and playing the ignorant game. It was _hard_ but she didn't ask. Not yet anyway. "I need help."

"Twice in one day. The sky must be falling."

That superior voice dug into Erza's skin and made her _furious_. She barely contained hanging up the phone. "Acnologia is coming after Mira and her sister. Maybe. Maybe Zeref, too. Can I bring them to Somnium?"

"Mirajane Strauss. What's she done to irk the Dragon?"

"Please, mum. I don't have time to explain. Just yes or no, can I bring her there?"

"Are you with her now?"

"Yes," Erza said.

"I don't suppose you'll _leave_ her?"

"No." She talked a big game. The thought had certainly crossed her mind more than once.

Eileen's mind was ticking away; Erza could almost hear it. "If I agree to harbour your fugitive friend, what do I get in return?"

Her mother always had concessions. Erza didn't even know why she was surprised. "What do you want?"

"You here. In Somnium with me."

Of course. "You can make sure she's safe?"

"Yes."

"And the sister? You can make sure she's taken care of?" Erza asked. "She has some…" She looked over her shoulder at a spying Lisanna, trying to think of a diplomatic way to explain Lisanna's situation.

"I'm aware. She'll have the best care."

"Then… I will accept your terms."

Eileen didn't lord it over her; no, that would come for those late-night fights when Erza thought she wanted something _more_ —when she thought she could be better than her mother's conniving ways. "When you leave, there will be a black Buick out front. It'll bring you to me."

Erza put the pieces together. "You had me followed."

"I _always_ have you followed, Erza. I want you safe."

Erza held in a sigh.

"Aren't you going to ask after your lover?"

_Lover._ What a fucking dirty word. With renewed vigor, Erza juggled zipping up the bag. "I don't really have time right now."

"I suppose that means you won't be sad if he's dead."

"Is he?" The words squeaked out much quieter than she'd like.

"He's lurking behind a table like he thinks he should be," Eileen said. "I told him he could come out but he's very untrusting."

Erza felt her cheeks heat though she wasn't sure if she was embarrassed for herself or for Jellal. "Be nice to him, mother."

"I thought you wanted me to be mean."

She _did_. Kind of. "Clearly, I don't know what the fuck I want," Erza bit out. "I have to go." She hung up before Eileen could distract her anymore, _reasonably_ certain that Jellal would survive the next few minutes if he'd managed _this_ long.

Mira came into the room in a whirlwind of white hair and vanilla perfume. Her brow was damp with sweat. She looked like she wanted to throw off her leather jacket and the shoes she'd stuffed back on her feet but held on for whatever it was worth. "Come on, Lisanna."

"My clothes—" Lisanna started.

"We can change _after_ , Mira said, not nearly as concerned with Lisanna's pale purple pajamas as she was. She crossed the room and helped her sister into a standing position while Erza scoured the bottom of the closet and found a pair of plain black flip-flops for her to wear.

"What's wrong?" Lisanna asked.

"Nothing," Mira lied.

"It's something," Lisanna said.

"It's—"

"For God's sake," Erza barked. "She's not an invalid, Mira. Acnologia is mad at your sister. He threatened your life. We're _leaving_." If looks could kill, she'd be dead ten times over.

" _Erza_."

"I'm sorry, Mira, but we don't have _time,_ " Erza said, not feeling very sorry at all. That was until Mira's eyes watered. Though Erza was expecting a full onset of tears, Mira blinked them away. Good. "There's a car waiting out front for us. It'll take us to Somnium."

"Somnium?"

Everyone wanted to ask questions. "Let's just _go._ "

Mira looped Lisanna's arm around her shoulder and got her sister standing. Lisanna wobbled, still high from the last time she'd been sedated. Mira stabilized her somehow while wearing those heels that made her totter. Erza thought about helping out. Then she took another look at Mira's swollen and puffy cheek and thought better of it. If Lisanna could do that to her sister, what would she be willing to do to a stranger?

She slung the tote bag's arm strap around her neck and came out into the hall. She knew before she'd taken two steps that something was very, very wrong. The hallway was _deserted_. Not a single nurse or patient occupied the visible area. "Were there people out here a second ago?"

Mira's voice squeaked. "Yes. Where—"

A woman wearing a fuchsia cloche hat stepped out of a patient's room. She closed the door behind herself and directed her attention to Erza. "Packed?"

"Angel," Erza said, recognizing the woman not from her face because it was contoured like crazy, making her look just like someone else but from her voice.

"Reunion later?" She reached into the huge duffle-style bag she had around her shoulder and pulled out a SIG SG 552 Commando. The appearance of the gun made Erza twitchy in the same way it _always_ made her twitchy. She longed to pull her own pistol from her purse, though beside it, she didn't think the Pico was very impressive. A bullet was a bullet, though.

She couldn't tell if it was violent _want_ or the need for protection driving her motivation so she left it exactly where it was.

"Why do we need that?" Mira eyed the gun warily, much less conflicted than Erza.

Angel's smile was a knife. "Because on my way in, I saw more than a few keloids."

Acnologia's men were there.

"Elevator or stairs?"

"Stairs," Angel decided. Erza pushed Mira and her sister between her and Angel where she thought it would be safest. Angel had different ideas. "You're the most important thing here. You stay here where I can see you." She pulled Erza into her side.

_Is this what it means to be Somnium's next Matriarch?_ No. Erza knew it meant far more than that. Posturing and preening and playing to the gallery. It meant being someone she didn't think she'd like being. It also meant going toe-to-toe with men like Acnologia and Zeref. She thought she'd lament the decision to accept her mother's legacy but the only thing she really lamented was self-discovery. She was a war dog, only happy when she had someone to smite.

* * *

"You can come out now, Detectives," Eileen said in a syrupy voice. "You won't be harmed."

Laxus might have laughed at his partner's tomato-red face, freshly flushed with humiliation, if he wasn't the exact same shade. His heart was going crazy and his breathing tube was a pinhole. Jellal kept clenching and unclenching his gun's grip. He was _never_ trigger happy, not ever. The fact that he was itching to be now set Laxus on edge. It was cyclical, he knew. The tenser he was, the tenser Jellal was and they just _fed_ off each other.

Laxus thought his partner was going to shoot him when his grandfather's ringtone started blaring out of his pants pocket. It took Jellal a whole five seconds to figure out what was happening and then he was all scowls. "What the fuck?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Laxus asked.

"Leave your fucking phone in the _car_."

"Or answer it." Eileen's heels snapped on the floor. Laxus felt foolish with Somnium's smooth floor beneath his hands and his knees as Eileen in all of her beautiful and terrifying glory crouched on the other side of the table they'd dragged down with them for protection. "Go ahead. Then you can rise and fix my table. I have a special friend coming. Mister Dragneel isn't known for his fondness of mess."

"Zeref's coming here?" Jellal asked. His neck had lost some of its colour.

Eileen smiled. "You should get on your way, Detectives. Before Mister Clive does pull that trigger and I have to rush to clean you off the floor."

Laxus recognized that look in his partner's eye and didn't much care for it. That look and his gut told him that one way or another, he'd be figuring out what the floor tasted like before the day was done.

"Of course, _Tante_."

Jellal was a liar. He was a damned _good_ liar, sure, but Laxus knew all the different scheming faces Jellal Fernandez wore and his _'this is a bad idea but I'm going to do it anyway'_ face was no exception. His phone went to voicemail and started ringing again.

"You need a different ringtone than 'Final Countdown,'" Jellal said from the corner of his mouth.

Laxus picked himself off the floor thinking that it felt plenty appropriate. His grandfather was older than time, he and Jellal seemed to be flirting with death a little more than usual. Life was full of final countdowns.


	23. Chapter 23

"Where is everyone?" Lisanna's voice was as quiet as a summer's breeze. Erza watched it grate over Angel like sandpaper as it echoed off the green stairwell walls.

"Just shut up and move it."

Mira started doing damage control even before Angel stopped speaking. She treated her sister like she was a volatile substance. _Likely because she_ is, Erza mused. She half wished Lisanna had gotten Acnologia with her attack and not Mira. She half wished that Lisanna wasn't so fucking _crazy_ and that she, Erza, wasn't participating in this. The rabbit hole was long and deep and dark and it seemed the only way out was to hit the bottom.

A door banged open above. Angel ushered Erza down to the landing on the second floor and swung her gun up, scouring for the intruder. Mira followed shortly behind, nearly tripping down the stairs, and pulled Lisanna onto the landing and into Erza's side. Mira's eyes were wide and frightened. Lisanna's cheeks were high with colour and it wasn't because of fear.

Feet started on the stairs, fast and heavy. Erza was shocked when Angel squeezed the gun's trigger and a short burst of bullets came screaming out, so, so loud. Mira yelped, Lisanna squeezed her sister's arm so tight, her knuckles were white, and Erza chewed her tongue hard, so very close to pulling out her own gun. Someone overhead yelled. A pistol fell down three storeys. Angel snagged it up and kept moving. "Let's go."

Lisanna stopped the girl before she could get too far, a hand on her wrist. Erza tensed. Angel wasn't the kind of woman you grabbed. While Angel _did_ give her a look that could curdle milk, she didn't smack her hand away.

"Can I have it?" Lisanna asked.

"No," Mira answered for her.

Erza recognized that vicious smile on Angel's mouth. Mira's intense disapproval was what pushed her to give Lisanna the pistol.

"Lisanna," Mira hissed and grabbed for the gun.

Lisanna lurched out of reach. "Don't." A simple word to go with that dangerous expression on her face. Erza had chills even _after_ Lisanna turned away from them and started down the stairs. She finally allowed herself to take her gun out. She didn't train her gaze for men with keloid scars, though, she kept her sights on Lisanna's back, and Angel, who was much more willing to have Lisanna out front now that she was armed. Mira was _actually_ crying now and desperately trying to think of a way to get the gun from her sister. Erza touched her hand, offering comfort she didn't know if she was within her right to offer, not with her own gun trained on Lisanna's back. It seemed Mira didn't know how to accept that, either.

Another door opened above them. They did as before, Angel's muzzle going high, Erza and Mira pressing themselves into the wall on the basement floor landing. No shots came down from on high. It was the door that opened on the landing that they should have been watching as Lisanna was. When it opened, she didn't even hesitate, not in confirming the identity of the intruder, not in pulling the trigger. A woman fell to the ground preceding that deafening shot and lay in a growing pool of blood. Mira was too horrified to even peep. Angel said, "Good job," and led them all out the door and into an underground parking lot. As she stepped over the body, Erza did a cursory check for keloid scars and couldn't find any. A little sob from Mira meant she, too, had come to that conclusion. Erza squeezed her hand tighter. So Lisanna was a killer at home with a gun?

Maybe they all were.

Erza shouldn't have felt relief. She _did._

Angel had her hand pressed to her ear and was talking quickly as she descended a set of concrete steps onto the parking garage's floor. Cars packed every inch of available space, hoods and roofs and windshields illuminated in yellowed light. Without any windows in the enclosed space, it might as well be night.

Erza made a tough decision and decided to look _beyond_ Lisanna for enemies. There were too many places to hide. Every little sound made her tense. She made a career out of walking backward, searching the still open stairwell door for anyone.

Squealing tires and beams of headlights took all of her attention as a black Lincoln came tearing around one of the sharp concrete corners and gunned for them. Angel yelled something that might have been, 'Get down.' Erza didn't hear her but she was already dropping to her knees and putting herself against a forest green Nissan. All around, glass exploded while bullets chewed through it. Concrete powdered and metal whined. Erza counted the seconds until it let up. There was no _end._ She felt the car behind her shake and knew that it was getting filled in. Her eyes wanted to close and her head wanted to bow, that old familiar fear revisiting. Fists, bullets, was there a difference? Bitterness filled her mouth. She never wanted to feel this way again.

Her legs were locking before she really recognized the command to make them do so. The gun came up next. She spotted the Lincoln and the muzzle poking out of its rear window. She aimed and pulled the trigger. Was her aim any good? It had been years since she'd practiced. The gun range was in the back of her mind, Jellal's hand guiding hers, his lips against her ear as he pulled her earmuff back and whispered instructions. Everything slowed. She knew peace and control in the seconds before she pulled the trigger. And after? Only havoc. Her bullet went _somewhere_ ; she didn't think it'd found its mark. The rolling gunman had spotted her and taken aim, metal was _tinging,_ Lisanna was muttering, Mira was wrenching the gun out of her sister's hand and then grabbing Erza around the waist, pulling her down, down, while Angel rose, SIG screaming out a symphony of destruction.

Erza's butt hit the ground, and her sightline was obscured, so she didn't get to see the car collide with a pillar after Angel had gotten first the gunman and then the driver with her wild spread. Erza knew that wouldn't have brought her the satisfaction she sought, anyway, only sinking a bullet into the shooter herself would have done that. She struggled with content. _You don't have to be a killer._

More tires squealed. Erza wondered if she was going to get a second chance. Angel barked, "That's our ride." Her voice sounded distant to Erza's abused ears. So many shots let out in such an enclosed space had deafened her. "Come on, Erza." Angel's hand was surprisingly calloused closing on Erza's wrist. Erza found it within herself to get to her feet. Angel stuffed her into the backseat. It was a surprise when Lisanna tumbled in after her, the motion facilitated by an angry Mira. The girl spat and cussed and raged, demanding her gun back, demanding to know what was happening, demanding that Mira let her protect them. Mira growled in a tone Erza had never heard before and pushed Lisanna back in when the girl tried to climb out again. By the time they'd sorted themselves out enough that Mira was in the backseat and the door was closed, Angel was in the passenger's seat and the driver, a woman with short platinum hair so close to Mira's _they_ could have been related, was tearing out of the parking lot.

Mira and Lisanna still argued. Lisanna wanted to know where they were going. Mira had almost no answers.

"If you don't _shut the fuck up_ ," Angel said coldly from the front seat, "I will shoot you."

"Where is Natsu?" Lisanna demanded of Erza, fearless of Angel's threat. "You said he'd be here."

"You'll see him soon," Erza said just to make her be quiet. Lisanna seemed pacified. Mira's responding look was wedged between relief, gratitude, and horror. Erza pressed her cheek against the window and watched the parking garage fade away, leaving the bodies behind with regret. She wondered if Jellal would be willing to take her back to the gun range.

* * *

Laxus was barely out of Somnium's door when he had the cigarette in his mouth and lit. Smoke coiled in his lungs. Days ago it made him want to cough and had his head all cobwebs. Now, the only thing it did was scratch an itch he didn't know needed scratching.

"I don't know why I quit."

"Because when you joined the academy, you couldn't run ten k?" Jellal offered unhelpfully.

Yeah. Laxus sucked in another mouthful and let the smoke out slowly, savoring it. "What's the plan? Loiter and make even bigger asses out of ourselves in front of _Tante_ Eileen until she gets sick of us and calls the cops?"

"You can answer your grandfather for starters," Jellal said coldly just as Laxus' phone rang again. This time, he answered it. "Yeah?"

"Why haven't you been answering my calls?" Makarov Dreyar sounded hornet-mad.

"Working." Laxus looked over his shoulder at Somnium. The building was a hulking beast in the setting sun. He could feel Gildarts Clive's eyes on him and it was goddamn unsettling. Everyone knew if you wanted a hit done and no trace, you went to Gildarts. Everyone also knew that you didn't cross him. Anyone that dared wasn't heard of again. And there was the matter of his Desert Eagle. Gildarts and Eileen could posture and laugh and say that there was no threat to him or Jellal earlier all they liked. Laxus knew better. Jellal did, too. There wasn't much mistaking the sound of a hammer engaging. He hadn't seen the gun, sure. But he wasn't a fucking idiot.

"Did you hear me, Laxus?" Gramps asked.

Laxus hauled himself back to the present. "What?"

"I said, your Captain has been calling here looking for you and she's visited the house."

"Personally?"

"Yes. She's mad. I don't know what you did to make her so angry—"

"It's a long story."

"Well, you should get into contact with her."

"I don't know if I can." After the Cardinal had killed so close to home, Ultear was thinking the same thing Laxus was: Jellal was too close to this. He was going to make mistakes. He was going to draw conclusions the way he never used to just to get this guy. Ultear was calling to kick them off the case for sure. It didn't matter that she was having a difficult time finding cops to trust, she would figure it out. And if he knew Jellal at all, he wasn't about to just let that happen.

"Why?" Makarov asked suspiciously.

"The less you know, the better, old man."

"Laxus." Makarov took a curt tone.

"Gramps."

"I'll give you some advice for free."

"The last time you gave me advice, Raine Andersen punched me in the nose."

"I didn't think you'd actually try to get up her skirt. You're smarter now."

High praise coming from his grandfather. Laxus wanted to bask in it. He also wanted to hang up so his loyalties weren't so goddamn torn. "Hang on to that advice, I gotta go, things are heating up."

"Where are you?"

"I'll see you tonight." With any luck. If he didn't get shot and killed because he was easily swayed by peer pressure.

"Laxus—"

He hung up and then did the unwise: turned off his phone.

"Thanks," Jellal said.

"Like the real Lady Spider, I don't want your thanks," Laxus said. He couldn't tell if Jellal was actually hurt or if that wince was just the pungent smoke hitting his nose badly. _Hurt,_ his gut said. Without knowing what to say to sooth the raw wound finding _Tante_ Alba left behind, Laxus made an effort to stick to the facts. "Gramps said Ultear was at the house looking for us."

Jellal's gaze sharpened.

"He didn't have anything to tell her so as far as I know, she still knows nothing. But, man, tell me you have a plan." Jellal always did.

"Half of one?" he offered.

"Half."

"Alright, more like a quarter."

"A quarter of a fucking plan." Laxus' fingers hurt. He'd crushed his cigarette and burned himself. He dropped the butt to the ground to live with all the others. A lungful of air granted back control. "Let's hear it."

"Light another smoke."

"Your big plan is for me to smoke?" He was back to wanting to throttle Jellal.

"Did you hear _Tante_ Eileen? That was Erza that called her. Eileen said Erza and her 'fugitive friend' needed help. What do you think that means?" He didn't give Laxus time to respond. "Her and Mira are on their way here and I want to talk to them."

_Fugitive?_ He could imagine a lot of reasons why Mira might be sporting that moniker. He didn't like _any_ of them. He reminded his partner that,"Eileen told us to leave."

"We're not doing anything wrong in the parking lot while you smoke," Jellal said. "We'll wait until they're here."

"We're going to get shot."

"You _always_ think we're going to get shot."

Laxus counted the times he'd been on the receiving end of a bullet. "Because we always _do_."

" _You_ always do."

Laxus lit another cigarette, needing something unviolent to do with his hands. "So we wait until Erza and Mira get here and then what?"

"We stall for time. I want to see why Zeref is here."

"You know she's not going to let you hang around and _listen_ to that talk, right?"

Jellal's face got dark.

"Alright," Laxus conceded. "We'll wait." And hope that they didn't get shot. He leaned his weight against the Charger's hood. Suddenly, parking right out front didn't seem like such a wise idea. The only reason he didn't push to move was pride. There was nothing like it and his had been wounded enough today. "What did you think about what she said about Tores?"

"I think that even if she doesn't know he's the killer, she's sized him up and exploited him with the truth."

"You still think he's our guy?"

Jellal was absolutely confident saying, "Yes."

It was a dangerous edge Laxus toed when he suggested, "What if we're wrong?"

"We're _not_ wrong."

Laxus breathed smoke from his nose and looked up at the grey sky. On cue, it started to rain, though not heavily, not yet. The clouds over the northern part of the city were darker. They'd be arriving soon enough. With storms on his mind, he went through their list of suspects, starting at the very bottom. Simon Mikazuchi. He had doctor's notes to absolve him and an alibi. Both could easily be forged, sure, but he'd kept himself quiet and out of the line of fire so Laxus was gradually, bit by bit, dismissing him.

Elfman Strauss. He was sitting in jail so he had no opportunity to do in _Tante_ Alba. Unless, of course, she was killed _before_ he was arrested? The lab would be able to tell them that. Or perhaps, like Kyouka suggested, he had a partner. Why target his sister, though? Or even his sister's roommate?

Rahkeid Dragneel. Creepy and good for it if he didn't have travel receipts and a stoicism that would put God to shame. Could be he was the world's best liar. Could be he was as fucked up as they came but _not_ a killer.

Laxus skipped right over Gray. The only thing he thought Gray was guilty of was being an idiot. And too rough with his girl.

Superintendent Tores. In a position of power, toeing the line of extreme. Strict and striving for perfection. He remembered the cross the man was wearing and thought he was also a man believing in God, for all that was worth. If Eileen was right, then he was swinging dirty deals with Acnologia.

And of course, there was Acnologia himself. Telling everyone he knew who the Cardinal was and using that name that had birthed terror in Magnolia to get what he wanted. Laxus wondered if he was just fear mongering or if he _actually_ knew.

"You're thinking hard, Detective."

Laxus looked up from where he studied the broken parking lot ( _Why_ didn't _Tante_ Eileen have it fixed if she had as much power and influence as she claimed? _It's part of the ruse_ , he decided—if she looked unthreatening, people would think that she _was_ until she was tearing them out at the roots). Kyouka approached—glided, really, she was graceful and delicate and unmistakably deadly with those mean eyes and that cruel, crooked smile. Beside Laxus, Jellal's eyes were on her and had been for some time.

"Always."

"Doubt that."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a really bad attitude?" Laxus asked with a smile that was falsely bright.

"Has anyone ever told you that you say the most wonderful things? Do you talk to all women like that?" She was close enough to snatch up his askew tie from his chest and right it.

"From time to time."

She simpered. "While I'd like to listen to _more,_ Detectives, I have to ask that you move on."

"When I'm done my smoke," Laxus said. "Almost." It was actually down to the filter now. He considered lighting another and wondered how Kyouka would take such an audacious move. She seemed like the kind of woman that appreciated audacity. "Why's Zeref on his way here?"

She smoothed his tie again and adjusted the clip. "Between you and me? Oh, and your partner of course," she added as an afterthought.

"Sure, Kyouka."

Her mouth went flat. "It's still _Tante,_ Detective, regardless if you met my Matriarch or not, _regardless_ if I like the way you talk to me or _not_."

"Yes, _Tante_ ," he said as pacifyingly as possible.

She still looked prickly but admitted, "I had to tell Zeref Dragneel that Rahkeid came here last night bragging to my girls about how the Cardinal had shown him new light. I'm sure Zeref has questions he didn't ask last night."

"What?" Jellal asked sharply.

"Questions, Detective," Kyouka said.

"No," Jellal replied impatiently. "What about Rahkeid."

"Yes. He got a room and did the same thing he always did, told Juvia he wanted her to pray. She did not so he told her that he was going to bring her to the Cardinal. And that was the end of his visit. I called Mister Dragneel and had him removed."

_Maybe we were wrong about Rahkeid._ Laxus shared a look with Jellal. There was a war going on in his partner's mind. And it looked bloody. Laxus dropped his cigarette butt and stepped on it though it was already out by now. "Thanks, Kyouka. You should have called us, though."

"We don't have much use for the police, Detective," she said. "If you were worth your salt, _I_ wouldn't be the one telling you who your killer is." She patted his chest. "I hope you can manage an arrest without me?" A smile came to her, sharp as broken glass. "I imagine that will keep you quite busy. Goodbye now." She twitched away without waiting to see if they'd get back in their car and leave. Somnium's door closed at her back and then it was just Jellal and Laxus once more. It started raining harder.

"Are we going to the Dragneels?" Laxus prodded when Jellal was still stationary.

Jellal blew damp hair off his forehead. "What if he's got Rahkeid with him?"

"We can't stand around here all day waiting to see if that's the case—" Laxus trailed off, seeing a Buick tearing down the road. Jellal followed his gaze and unclipped his holster. Laxus mimicked him. When the car got closer, the tension in Laxus' shoulders eased some. Jellal was only halfway there. The car came into the driveway still doing sixty and screeched to a stop beside the Charger. Four doors opened and the women spilled out. Laxus eyed Angel and the very illegal gun she carried.

"Replica, Detective," she said with a feral smile.

"Bullshit, Angel," Laxus replied.

"I'll prove it." She started to lift it. Erza's voice stopped her.

"Don't shoot them, Angel."

Angel looked like she'd sucked on a lemon. The gun _did_ inch down. Laxus didn't take his eyes off of it. Angel was a sly cat, and fast. Angel didn't take her eyes off him, either. "Come inside, Erza."

"In a minute," Erza said. Her gaze was locked on Jellal.

Angel huffed. "I didn't pull your ass out of there—"

"In a _minute_ ," Erza repeated.

"Whatever. I was told to bring you to Somnium, you're here, I wash my hands of it." She and the driver, a girl that could be her twin, tore open Somnium's door and entered. Not being able to see where she was with that gun made Laxus the most nervous of all. He managed to look away from the door in favour of focusing on Mira. She'd been crying. Her face was scratched up. Beside her was Lisanna Strauss, he recognized her from the file he'd pulled that morning. In a pair of purple pajamas, she managed to look affronted and sour.

Erza's voice was a clear bell as she said, "You can go inside, Mira. They'll set you up in there."

When Mira moved, Laxus moved with her. Erza didn't complain about him entering Somnium and neither did Jellal so he took that as a 'go ahead, you probably won't be shot' and hoped Eileen (or Kyouka if Eileen had decided that her time in the spotlight was through) would see that in the same way.

The blue lights around the bar twinkled. Imagine Dragons had faded long ago, Evanescence's _Ocean_ poured out. Eileen was no longer at the bar, now Angel had taken up residence. She'd misplaced her gun somewhere, Laxus saw, and replaced it with a glass of something clear that made her wince when she drank it. She looked past Mira and Laxus and focused on the youngest Strauss. "Lisanna, right?"

Lisanna stepped forward. "Yeah."

Angel looked her over from head to toe. " _Tante_ Kyouka says to get you a room and some clothes. This way." Mira tagged along. Angel noticed and said, "Just Lisanna. You're going to get set up upstairs, Mira, and begin to work off your debt to the _Tante."_

"I am?"

"Nothing in life is free," Angel sung. She slipped her arm through Lisanna's and pulled her away.

"Wait," Mira rolled with the decree with surprising ease, used to being used, and called. "Which room? And will there be a place I can clean up?"

"You're in the Iris Room," Angel said. "You can't miss it. There's a washroom in there. Find something nice in the closet. We start accepting men in at eight so you have a bit of time to…" She looked at Laxus, trying to determine what it was that they were doing. "To send the Detective on his way, anyway."

"What's going to happen to Lisanna?" Mira asked before Angel could get any further away.

"She'll be fine," Angel called vaguely over her shoulder. Before any more questions could be asked, they went down a set of stairs behind the bar, leaving Mira and Laxus alone.

Mira heaved a giant sigh. "This way I guess." She started trudging up the stairs. Laxus was on her heels so he could see how she favoured each step. Her feet hurt. If he studied her closely in the low light, he could even see the red skin sliding in and out of her high heels.

At the top of the stairs was a T intersection, Somnium's rooms the bar's circumference. She chose a direction at random and followed the dark wooden balcony past door after door. There were flowers stenciled on each, Latin names beneath. Most, Laxus didn't know but some made sense. Like Lilium for lily, Rosae, for rose bush. Iris alba for white iris, though to be honest, the only reason he got that was because of the flower etched in the door and the _iris_ part of the name.

Mira placed her hand on the doorknob but didn't open it. Her shoulders were heavy.

"Mira, whatever she's doing for you, you don't have to do this," Laxus said when it seemed she wouldn't move.

Mira straightened her spine. "No. I asked for help and this is the price." She pushed open the door with authority. The room was pure, pure white. Only the floors were black and those were made of wood scorched to be that way. There was a line of mirrors on the wall, sterling silver encompassing the frames. It was a nice room, just what he'd expect from Somnium. Mira seemed unimpressed. The Barrel had been just as expensive but with less danger, Laxus supposed. She kicked off her shoes and shoved them onto a mat beside the door and he saw he was right, her feet were torn up with blisters. She took herself to the bed and sat heavily upon it, though her clothes were damp from the rain.

Laxus approached her without worry that she was still mad about Elfman—he could see that she _was_ , no one's shoulders were that stiff unless they were harboring some resentment—and touched her cheek lightly. "What happened?"

Mira fought with herself and then leaned into his hand. Laxus wondered if it would _always_ be like that—if there was ever going to be an _always_ in the future or if after this farce of an investigation was over, she'd go her own way and he'd go his and he'd never frequent any of her usual haunts and she'd never frequent his.

Mira said, "Lisanna."

The sister. He knew she had some… anger. But to hurt Mira? "Why?"

"She hates me."

He was sure she didn't but she seemed _certain_ of that an uninterested in hearing another opinion. "And your feet?"

"Hazards of the job?" she asked drolly.

"And why were you crying?" He stumbled over that question. It was so much more personal.

Mira wavered then spilled. "Everything is messed up. Elfman and Lisanna and—"

"I'll bring you in to see Elfman," he offered after she'd trailed off, though he knew as soon as he stepped foot in the station, Ultear was going to tear him anew. It wasn't like he could avoid her forever, right? "When you're done here tonight."

Her lip pouted out and her chin wobbled. Laxus selfishly missed the fierce girl she was when she tucked her purple card into his pocket days and days ago. Then she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down to her and he forgot what that longing was. Her mouth was cinders. Her touch was the ash. He was the burning string.

* * *

Erza pushed her hair back from her face as the wind grabbed it up and tangled it. It wouldn't stay put so she twisted it into a loose and damp braid as she crossed the narrow distance to Jellal. When she got closer, she could see there was a sadness that clung to him but above that, was a rage she was unfamiliar with but _recognized_ because she'd seen it in herself. Wariness had taken a backseat. Her mother left him alive. That said _something_ , didn't it? She didn't know Eileen Belserion to be kind or generous. She must have seen something in Jellal worth seeing.

_Maybe even the same thing_ you _have._ The man that taught her to shoot. The man that lied for her. The man that protected her secrets because while he belonged to the law, he wasn't wholly consumed. He saw the black in the white and lived in the grey.

_God._

That scared her.

Not so much that she didn't ask, "What happened?"

"The Cardinal killed _Tante_ Alba." Jellal delivered the news in a monotone voice to keep it from eviscerating him. It got its licks in any way. "We found her in Kardia Cathedral."

"Jellal…"

He was blank.

Erza felt all used up. She didn't know _how_ to comfort him. She did what Mira did whenever _she_ was sad and stepped into him and locked her arms around his neck. He was unresponsive for long enough that Erza felt more awkward than before. She was trying to pull away when he cinched his arms around her waist and tucked his face into her neck. He held her the tightest she'd ever been before and she hated him for it and herself for allowing it, for enjoying it, for taking some kind of… _comfort_ from comforting him.

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too." He was still carefully monotone. What he left out of his voice he put into his touch. Erza felt his sadness and helplessness like a blight, infecting her and consuming her, too. Was this what it meant to share with people? If that was the case, she didn't want to share anything at _all_. Mira needed too much, Jellal needed too much and there was none of Erza left for Erza. She couldn't move away from him, though. Not even close. There was a satisfaction in giving. Mira knew it—she was _always_ giving until there was nothing left of herself; it was a hard lesson to learn.

Into his shoulder, Erza asked, "Did you get any leads?"

"The only thing I learned is that your mother sent Kyouka to the station to tell Ultear that Superintendent Tores was guilty of murder, though she had no _proof._ Or so she says." Jellal's hot breath made goosebumps rise on Erza's body. She blamed the reaction on the rain and the cold and _not_ on the man holding her.

_Holding her._ God. And she held him back. Talking made it easier for Erza to ignore the way her fingers played in the fringe of hair at the nape of Jellal's neck. It was soft, his skin warm. "Why would she do that?"

"Your mother is pretty elusive. She wouldn't admit it outright but from what I gathered, our Super and Acnologia have a deal. Acnologia sells his drugs, the Super makes sure he doesn't get busted or if he does, it's never really crippling."

"Acnologia is paying out the police," Erza said, not very surprised.

"And your mother is tired of it."

Erza connected the dots. "She doesn't want to go after Acnologia so she went after your Superintendent."

"Laxus doesn't think Tores is our guy. But I saw him, Erza. When we found _Tante_ Alba, he was _there_ , and the way he was looking at her… he was guilty."

Erza couldn't sympathize either way, she hadn't been there to make her own judgement.

"I need to know if she accused him baselessly or if she had something solid. The best I have is Kyouka said Rahkeid came into Somnium yesterday and threatened one of the girls with the Cardinal when she wouldn't do what he wanted."

"Rahkeid did?"

"Yeah. So if I can make Rahkeid talk I might get something but he's always got Zeref hanging over his shoulder, protecting him—"

Erza cut in before he could get too far. "Rahkeid's dead."

Jellal's arms tightened fractionally. "Dead?"

"Mira said she was at the Dragneels today and saw."

"How?"

She remained silent, knowing Jellal would come to the same conclusion.

"Fuck. He was killed?"

Erza could almost hear him ask, _'Now what?_ ' "You'll find something else."

He tightened his hold on her waist before leaning back so he could look into her eyes. This whole thing felt poisoned but Erza's heart was beating strangely again. She couldn't deny that she was glad her mother hadn't killed him. Until he said, "Zeref is coming here. I need to speak with him. Will you help me?"

"He'll never say what you want him to," Erza said in a vain attempt to keep herself _untangled_. "Not to you."

His breath came out in a short burst that smelled like alcohol. "I have to try—"

"Trust me, Jellal, my mother won't let you grill Zeref, not in Somnium. Not on its grounds, either." She willed him to see the danger.

"Maybe she will if she wants Zeref out of the way, too," Jellal reasoned.

"Maybe she does, but not badly enough to let you do it here. She won't want anyone thinking Somnium's involved with the police." It was bad for business. While Eileen didn't deal drugs explicitly like the Prayer did, Somnium was known for its loose rules.

"This is a bordello, isn't it?" Jellal asked. "What if—"

"You want to sit in a room and wait for me to send Zeref up to you?" He missed her sarcasm.

" _Yes_."

" _No_."

"Please, Erza."

She didn't want to like when he begged or when he said her name. She still did.

" _Tante_ Alba's killer needs to be caught. He's killed Lucy Heartfilia and dressed her like you, I won't let him take anything else—"

She chewed her cheek hard and made a decision she considered _bad—_ anything to get him to _stop_ talking. "You can come inside and wait. I won't guarantee an audience with Zeref. Nor will I guarantee that you won't be shot. Or that my mother won't just kick you out." Or throw him in the Blooms River.

"Thank you."

He was so sincere and so close and so corporeal. Erza's head was swimming. His eyes weren't just hazel in the grey daylight. They were the green of moss gone wrong, a forest on the brink of decay. She thought the metaphors she kept pulling up should drive her away. They only brought her closer. She could _feel_ the warmth of his mouth and found herself wondering what his lips tasted like. Whatever scotch he'd been drinking? Something else entirely? Something unique? It had been so long since the _last_ time she'd kissed him that she'd ashamedly forgotten the particulars.

"Come in," she said before she completed her day of bad decisions. He took her hand and she didn't pull away, leading her to think that maybe that ship had already sailed.


	24. Chapter 24

Behind the bar was Kyouka, dirty blonde hair smoothed and plaited with white lilies, body poured into a dress more suited for the evening, something black and snug that dipped low and rode high. She looked sourer than usual as soon as Erza and Jellal entered Somnium hand-in-hand. Her gaze followed Erza like she was a target, wavering only to look at Jellal and say, "Erza, if I'm not mistaken, he was told to find somewhere else to be."

"And I told him to come in," Erza said easily. She wasn't sure how lenient her mother would be when it came to pushing her decree but she was determined to find out. _Maybe she'll be so furious, she'll tell you to go back to where you came from._ It wasn't likely Eileen would let her go now that she had her but Erza dreamed that she had a choice in life, that she wasn't always predestined to end up back here in Somnium.

"Erza, we have an important guest coming—"

"I know," Erza said. "Don't worry, Jellal's going to be upstairs—"

_"_ _Why_?"

Erza didn't imagine that Kyouka cut off her mother like that. She flexed her fingers and remembered that Jellal's hand was in hers only when his hand went slack, giving into her fierce clutch. She eased back. "Because I _asked_ him to. That's all you need to know. Mind your bar, your guests will be arriving soon." She made what she hoped was a grandiose exit, pulling along a still-silent Jellal.

At the top of the stairs, she went left and hoped that her old room was still waiting for her. Four down from the stairway and overlooking the bar, bleeding hearts painted blood red greeted her. The door was closed and locked. She still had the key, despite telling herself many times to get rid of it.

When the door opened, the space beyond was empty. She flicked the light switch and a string of white lights hugging the ceiling came alive. The bed's black sheets had been turned likely once every week to keep it fresh-smelling and everything had been dusted. The floors were burned wood clear of any dirt or dust and the walls, as red as the bleeding hearts on the door, held a fresh coat of paint. The place smelled like cinnamon and faintly like drugs, though that was to be expected, the whole upper floor held that smoky and chemically quality. On the walls were speakers where K. Flay chimed along, telling her,

_'_ _I don't like anyone better than you, it's true_  
I'd crawl a mile in a desolate place with the snakes, just for you  
Oh I'm an animal, hand me a tramadol, gimme the juice  
You are my citadel, you are my wishing well my baby blue'

As soon as the door closed, Erza dropped Jellal's hand and engaged the lock. Her fingers tingled in his absence. She thought about taking his hand again. _You don't_ hold _men's hands. Not unless you're getting paid to_. And as far as she knew, she wasn't.

Jellal inspected the room while Erza struggled with herself. He at least seemed unbothered by the intimate gesture. _Maybe that means it meant_ nothing. Or that he was just so much better at navigating these twisting channels Erza felt she was free-floating down.

"Is that the only entrance?" Jellal asked from in front of the small black curtained window.

"Yes."

_'_ _I used to like liquor to get me inspired_  
But you look so beautiful, my new supplier  
I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking  
But I found a different buzz  
The world is a curse it'll kill if you let it  
I know they got pills that can help you forget it  
They bottle it, call it medicine  
But I don't need drugs'

Jellal took out his gun and checked the clip. When he was satisfied, he put it back in his holster and dropped himself to the bed. The springs were silent beneath him and the mattress looked soft and comfortable. _Just like you remember._

Maybe she'd missed Somnium a _little._

_'_ _Do you see anyone other than me?_  
Baby please  
I'll take a hit of whatever you got  
Maybe two, maybe three  
Oh you're phenomenal, feel like a domino, fall to my knees  
I am a malady, you are my galaxy, my sweet relief'

Erza wished she was high. Wished she was overdosing. Wished for anything to stop herself from thinking about things she missed and things she liked.

Jellal asked, "Do you know where Mirajane took Laxus?"

"To one of these rooms. They won't be hard to find." Erza felt like she was made of stone standing there at the door. _So move._ Her feet tried to take her to Jellal; she made them go to the closet.

"What's the plan?" Jellal asked.

"I crash Zeref and Kyouka's meeting—"

"Your mother won't meet with him?"

Erza shook her head. "She's built this ruse for too long to waste it now. Anyway. I want to sit in on their meeting, listen to what they have to say. When it's appropriate, I'll offer Zeref my services. With any luck, he'll agree, I'll bring him up here, and you can ask your questions." This could go sideways in so many ways. Erza tried to imagine a furious Zeref when he realized he'd been lured into a trap.

"He might be volatile," Jellal said.

Erza realized that not only were Jellal's thoughts on the same path as hers, he was worried about her. "There are more guns in Somnium than there are in the constabulary." She didn't wonder how revealing that would affect her mother. Not only did she not care, she didn't think Jellal would do a damn thing about it, not unless he needed to. "My mother would never let anything happen to me."

" _Tante_ Alba was the same way. Nothing went on in her house without her knowledge and her repercussions were swift." The way he said it was very careful. Not too cold, not too hot.

"I remember." Erza opened the closet and was surprised to see that her mother had it stocked. She slid her finger over the soft materials inside, reds, blues, greens, blacks, and whites. As always, it was the finest cloth, expertly stitched. She landed on a white obe-shoulder dress that was loose on top and tight around the hips.

"Erza?"

She dared to look over her shoulder. Jellal's fingers gripped the black bedsheets and his hair was askew by the wind and the rain and from the countless times he'd pushed it back impatiently from his forehead since he'd found _Tante_ Alba. "What is it?" She hoped he wouldn't ask her anything she couldn't answer or request something she wasn't able to give.

He asked, "If Somnium could have been yours, why did you agree to go to the Prayer when I offered? Why didn't you come home?"

Erza considered not saying anything at all. Her foolish mouth was moving. "I've spent my life trying to get away from my mother's legacy."

"Morality?"

"We don't get along," she said vaguely.

Jellal didn't seem as interested in giving her the space to avoid the hard questions as he had in the past. "Why?"

Erza pursed her lips. "I suppose because we're too similar."

He dissected what she was trying to say. "You see in her all of your shortcomings."

All of her viciousness, actually. Taking off her jeans and her shirt was just a ploy to make him swerve from such a personal route. It had always worked before so why not now? She heard Jellal shift behind her and knew he was watching, she could feel the weight of his eyes.

Erza discarded her bra in the same way, the dress she'd chosen wasn't built for such things, dropping all to the floor. She supposed it was strange to feel like she had all the power when she was standing naked but that didn't change it. Jellal's mouth was closed, his attention was on her, and if things went badly, she had her brass knuckles weaved through her braid, ready to remove with some teasing.

"She loves you."

Erza was disappointed to see that he wasn't quite as distracted as she'd hoped.

She returned to the bed. "Lots of people think they love me, that doesn't make it true."

"It is in this case."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters."

Yes, he would think so, especially now.

Jellal unloaded on her. "You know I keep wondering if joining the police force was a mistake."

Erza's heart felt too heavy with Mira's shit and her own to accept Jellal's, too. She was a buoy filled with water, slowly sinking. "Why?" And apparently, she liked the way that felt.

He said simply, "Because I was _Tante_ Alba's watcher, no one got by me, and I could have been more. I could have protected her."

Monotone voice or not, subtle things gave him away. His fingers curling so tight in the bedsheets, his knuckles were white, the bead of sweat on his forehead.

"Nothing's going to change." He met her eyes. Erza explained, "It's in the past." She felt like a bad rendition of the Lion King. She wasn't nearly as wise as Rafiki and she was no shaman, able to communicate with the dead, but she didn't need to be, either, to see what he needed. Seeing and embracing that thing and offering it were very different things. She tried. "It was _Tante_ Alba that wanted you to be a police officer, wasn't it?"

His fingers loosened their death grip so now his knuckles were only tight, not white. "Yes."

"She thought you were exactly where you needed to be. So be there."

"I could have-"

"Maybe. But she encouraged you to go this route and now you're in the position to catch this man."

Jellal struggled with that, it wasn't a pill he just swallowed and accepted and moved on, stronger than before. Life didn't actually work like that. He saw the reason in her words and he wrestled with them, weighing what he felt and what he wanted and what he knew to be true. Erza brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead and tipped his face up so he had no choice but to look at her. This, too, felt too intimate but Erza couldn't stop. Jellal blinked up at her, a man waking from a dream. Now that she had his attention, she assured him, "You will catch her killer. I know you will, and you'll do it as a detective, not a shade of grey criminal."

His hands were in her hair pulling her low. Erza watched the approach like a woman removed from her body. Jellal's eyes were heavy-lidded, his lips were dry and slightly parted, and there was a crazed glint of grief in his eye. It took his breath mixing with hers for Erza to accept that her most treasured rule was being violated in the worst way and she wasn't doing a goddamn thing about it. She turned her cheek so he got the corner of her lips and not the real deal. His impatience and frustration voiced itself not vocally but physically. He was gripping her bare thighs just below the still nude swell of her behind and he was pulling her in closer. Erza waited for him to try to kiss her again but he seemed to come back to himself when she was firmly between his legs and her hands were on his shoulders, on the cusp of violence not because she _felt_ particularly violent, but because it had always been that way.

His breath fanned against her ribs. "I'm sorry, Erza."

_It's fine._

_Men do it all the time._

_I was expecting you to push me_.

No response felt right. She took his arm and tightened it around her waist, using her body to say what her mouth would not, after all, the language of touch was universal. His fingers slipped down her spine one vertebrae at a time. At her behind, he wasn't shy, grabbing her with both hands.

Erza thought that would be good enough. Jellal did not. "Why won't you kiss me?"

Erza heard herself saying, "Mouths lie." They told you pretty things and then they said the most hateful words. They lifted you up before they tore you down. "And I swore to myself that after I got what I wanted from you, that was the last time." Low in her belly twanged when she thought back to that night long ago, sitting on his lap with her lips locked on his. She could still hear his frantic breaths in her ear, smothered and short. That was back when she'd thought about it but didn't yet know just how violent she could be.

"You won't always feel that way."

Erza had no breath to deny him. Jellal took advantage of that and traced back up her spine and stopped at the edges of her breasts. Light, gentle touches weren't what he did best, Erza preferred it when, like the other morning, he got on top of her and held her firmly, _confidently._ It was the rekindling of an old want and one that she wrestled with. Since _before_ , she preferred all the control. With it, she'd never feel helpless. There was no denying her swimming thoughts when Jellal's light touch turned to something a little more poised and a lot less innocent as he grabbed her between his thumb and forefinger and pulled and his _mouth,_ caught her again at the edge of her lip, not quite kissing her but letting her know that he wanted to. Before she could decide what to do—be outraged—and _how_ to do it, he'd moved to her jaw and her earlobe and her neck, her collarbone, her breasts.

His hands, abominable and wonderful, slid between her legs and narrowed in on a sensitive spot. His fingers moved skillfully. Just when Erza relaxed into something she knew, he was pulling away. The frustration was real. Erza sucked on her teeth as Jellal leaned back on the palms of his hands. He was hard, she could see him pressing against his pants but he did not come for her. Most startling was realizing how much she wanted him to.

And that was his goal, he was transparent in a way he'd never been before. Instead of getting angry, she got dressed. They could both play that game. She stepped back from him and shook out the dress she'd don. It was supposed to be tight; she hoped it would fit—she was fuller than the last time her mother had really seen her.

It was on her body before Jellal gave in and touched her. His hands on her thighs had her skin tingling. Without being able to swipe his hand off, Erza came to the conclusion that she'd played other games much, much better in the past. It was him. It was the sadness he still carried, lingering beneath the surface. Hours and days would pass and the sting of _Tante_ Alba's passing would get worse before it got better. It was also just the way he looked at her. Erza had to take another step back. She adjusted her breasts and the skirt of the dress, she fixed her braided hair and felt the metal weaved in the scarlet locks.

"Will you come with me tonight?" Jellal asked.

"Back to your apartment?"

He put on a good front of not being embarrassed or self-conscious. "Yeah."

Erza chewed her cheek until it hurt. "I don't know." _What the hell happened to_ no?

All he said was, "Think about it."

Erza did. She thought of Jellal's bed that smelled like soap and cologne and his body, she thought of Beau, with her thick fur and warmth, her immediate acceptance and the unconditional happiness Erza felt when she was walking that dog that morning. She was irreparably torn between the girl that had shot at that rolling vehicle in the parking garage and the one that had dropped the gun that morning and joined Jellal in the shower. She wondered what Jellal would think of her hospital escapades. She didn't want to tell him in case it wasn't much.

"I should get ready to go downstairs." Erza went to the walnut vanity and did her makeup under Jellal's watchful eye. It was intimate and in a strange way thrilling, too. When she was choosing her lipstick, she picked up a colour that mimicked the one she'd worn the first time they met. Crimson. It nearly matched her hair. She glanced in the mirror and saw he approved. It bothered her that she liked his approval. It would have bothered her if she didn't get it, too.

* * *

Erza felt like an undercover debutant descending Somnium's stairs. Her mother was on stage singing her own version of _Young and Beautiful_. Her voice wasn't as clean as Lana Del Rey's but it was roughed velvet, easy on the ears. She was Somnium's most treasured performer— _that_ was a fact that her mother _loved._ She'd probably be on stage even if people weren't begging for her, but she basked in their praise and the duplicity.

Erza let her gaze slide naturally to Somnium's most sought-after table, it was where her mother put all of her 'special' guests because yes, the table had a wonderful view of the stage, it was close to the bar and the sound here was the crispest. It was also the perfect place for Gildarts to sit high in the rafters with his 305 long barrel rifle trained on heads in case anything went awry. Erza could feel the weight of his gaze now.

Zeref was already seated. His raven's wing hair was slicked back and he'd put himself into a dark suit, all black like a mourner. Natsu was with him, similarly dressed. Unlike his brother, Natsu stood as stiff as a statue, eyes roving the empty bar. He'd looked up, Erza was sure—had he seen Gildarts' gun? It wasn't likely, Gildarts was careful and Natsu's own revolver was still on his hip. It took great boldness to walk into Somnium so obviously armed; she'd expect nothing less from Zeref's come-as-you-are brother. Quick with his smile. Quick with his gun. Erza had watched him for a long, long time before she'd agreed to take him on as a client. She didn't care for men that could go from laughter to rage in a heartbeat. It took her a while to realize that he was never violent without cause and then, it was usually to protect his family or his pride.

Kyouka was behind the bar, pouring them their drinks. Erza joined her, going beneath the polished countertop for a cigarette holder. It was her mothers, made of holly and gold. She took one of her mother's herbal cigarettes and added that, too, lighting it with a match that she dropped into the sink when she was done.

"What are you doing?" Kyouka asked.

"I'm going to entertain our guests," Erza replied airily.

"No, you're not. You should stay out of the line of fire, Erza."

"Because you don't think it's safe for me?" Erza blew out a line of grey smoke. It lingered over her head before getting lifted by one of the great fans overhead and taken away. In an hour or so, when the doors _officially_ opened, the air would be rich with the stuff. She remembered sitting on the balcony as a kid, nose burning. She didn't think she'd ever miss it. She was wrong.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean." Kyouka dropped a glass of scotch too hard to the tray she was loading.

"That means you're slippery, Kyouka. I know it, my mother knows it." Erza stooped and lifted the loaded drink tray on her shoulder. She carried it expertly. When she was in nursing college, she'd tried her hand at serving. She did okay but couldn't make a career out of it _afterward_. Turns out, once you'd killed someone, your smiles didn't come so easy and when they did, they were tainted; families didn't like to pay for tainted smiles. Men did, though, when they were presented just right.

Kyouka followed just steps behind her, silently outraged but unable to do a damn thing about it, not unless she wanted to cause a scene. Erza circled Zeref's table, coming around to the side with the stage and dropped the drinks there. Zeref's eyes locked on hers. He recognized her immediately and she got to see that Mirajane was right, he was angry. Angry enough to do something drastic. Like murder his own son and the woman that walked into his house with taking his life on her mind.

Erza's heart beat hard in anticipation and she couldn't help but think again that there was something seriously wrong with her. The prospect of confrontation was _appealing_. She could get him before he could get Mira and there would be one less killer in the world. She smiled her tainted smile. "Mister Dragneel. May I join you?"

"I thought Kyouka would be here?"

" _Tante_ Kyouka _is_ ," Kyouka said agitatedly from behind him.

Erza saw the minute pleasure dance behind Zeref's eyes and knew that _he_ knew that she was there all along. It seemed they had something in common, they both liked to piss Kyouka off. Zeref accepted his drink from Erza's hands. "Thank you for the offer, but what we have to discuss isn't something I want to share."

Erza thought Kyouka would take Zeref's words and run with them—anything to send Erza on her way. The woman glanced at the stage where Eileen eyed her and lied as only a spider might. "I asked Erza to join us. Consider her a condolence gift."

Erza bristled. On second thought, it seemed Kyouka wasn't doing her many favours at all. What was there to do? Argue and destroy her chance of crashing their party? No. She expanded on her tainted smile and did what whores did best, acted. She took Natsu his drink and came to Zeref's back. She'd never been with the eldest Dragneel. Natsu was unpredictable. Zeref was a landmine of violence just waiting to be set off. His shoulders were stiffer than stone beneath her hands and didn't give an inch, not even for a massage. She didn't let herself waver from her goal. As usual, it was easier to give when the men didn't want. It was easier to act when her show was received with seeming disinterest. The men that looked at her like a piece of meat were way easier to handle than the ones that _wanted_ something from her. That wanted to love her.

"You're tense."

"And I'll remain that way so you might as well find somewhere else to be."

"Erza is very discrete," Kyouka said. "Anything said in her presence will be kept confidential."

"She's Mirajane Strauss' partner."

Erza sucked on her bottom lip. "What does that matter?"

Natsu stepped forward and laid down a generic looking pistol, cured of all its identification. "She came to the house with this today."

"Because she was told to." Erza made certain her fingers didn't tighten on Zeref's shoulders.

"She likes to do as she's told? Do you think if I told her to put it in her mouth and pull the trigger, she'd do that, too?" Zeref wondered idly.

It didn't take very long for Erza to have difficulty containing her anger. "She was frightened. She didn't want to kill you."

Zeref turned his head and pinned her with eyes as dark as a midnight sky. "And how would you know that, Miss Scarlet?"

_Because if she wanted to kill you for real, I hope she'd ask me_ , Erza thought silently. Her mouth said something different. "Her family was threatened by your rival. I would think you'd understand."

"I understand that sometimes, even family is a blight that must be cut away," Zeref said without emotion. He was cold enough to give her chills. When he turned just slightly and offered her his lap like she was an ornament, Erza nearly _refused_ on principle alone. Then she remembered what it was to be truly afraid and knew that there was nothing to fear here. Not unless Zeref was feeling vengeful and he was very, very quick with a knife. _Not as quick as me_. She was confident she could have his tumbler broken in his face in no time if need be. She lowered herself down. His skin was warmer than his demeanor, his hands calloused and full of intemperance. Without hesitation, he let his fingers rest beneath the hem of her dress too high to really be comfortable. Erza let her breath out and relaxed into him.

Zeref's thoughts became transparent, his intimidation technique revealing itself as he said, "I've had a thought. You're going to tell me where she is, Miss Scarlet."

"I can tell you that, there's no need to threaten her," Kyouka spoke up. Erza willed her to shut the fuck up about Mira. In true Kyouka fashion, she disregarded all of the warning glares and kept going. "You can find her upstairs."

Zeref tensed so much, Erza thought she was about to be thrown off his lap. "Here?"

"Yes."

" _Why_?"

Kyouka put herself down in the chair opposite to Zeref, back to the stage. "Because she needed somewhere to go and I've offered her sanctuary."

Zeref's fingers twitched, searching for a gun that wasn't at his fingertips. It would be easily enough. Erza had a wild urge to push the gun Natsu sat on the table to the floor. Or grab it up and pre-emptively fire it.

Kyouka never broke a sweat. "Here beneath this roof, she's safe."

Zeref, on the other hand, got more intense the longer he had for Kyouka's words to sink in. "She forfeited herself to me the moment she walked into my home with a gun."

"And yet, the way I hear it told, you allowed her to walk free," Kyouka said.

Zeref's brows knitted together. "I was distraught."

"Yes. About poor Rahkeid." Kyouka put the right amount of sympathy in her voice. "He is why you're here, isn't he? Perhaps we'll talk about him and not my ladies. I'd hate to have to ask you to leave."

Zeref drew in a breath deep enough that Erza felt his ribs expand. When he next spoke, his words were filled with his signature calm. "Very well. I owe you retribution, _Tante_ Kyouka, for the way my son acted."

"You found your proof then?" Kyouka asked.

Zeref looked uncomfortable now in a way he hadn't before. "Enough to warrant action."

Kyouka's eyes lit up like a fire coming to life. She was curious by nature and the filthier the secret, the more she longed to know it. "Was he the Cardinal killer? May I tell my girls that they're able to conduct their business without fear now?"

"Before he died, my son assured me that he was not the killer, but," Zeref added before Kyouka could get excited, "Rahkeid has been known to lie."

Kyouka acted like the news of Rahkeid's passing was new, and quite well, too. "You take extreme measures."

"I was extremely affronted." Zeref took down the rest of his scotch in one long gulp. "Name your price and we'll both move on from this ugly business."

"Acnologia's head."

Erza paused with her cigarette holder halfway to her mouth to study Kyouka. She was serious. Erza looked to her mother on the stage and saw that she, too, hadn't flinched. She had an earpiece in her ear so Erza imagined that she'd heard everything—ignorance wasn't an excuse. _What's she thinking_? Acnologia's empire was huge. He wouldn't easily be brought to his knees.

Zeref mimicked her thoughts. "If I could acquire Acnologia's head, I would have done it years ago."

"Your forces aren't enough but if we married our efforts…"

Zeref wasn't biting. "You've long been independent, Kyouka. You're a Matriarch proud to be without a patron. You wouldn't be satisfied living with my rules."

"Everything comes at a cost."

Zeref dismissed her. "Acnologia is a thorn, a painful one, but a misstep and he'll obliterate you. Business aside, heed my advice. This is too ambitious, even for you."

Kyouka was dogged. "I have people and guns allocated. All I need from you is a little bit of muscle, a little bit of funds. I have both but not nearly what you can provide."

Zeref leaned over the table so Kyouka had no chance of misunderstanding. "You're a snake, Kyouka. You're richer than you say and you have more influence than you think. I can't tell you the number of times I've had this very conversation with Acnologia about _you_. I will tell you what I told him: the cost of war will be too high."

"I'm flattered," Kyouka said.

"Don't be, you're not alive because we like you better this way. War means a slower production and a slower production means less income for everyone. I'm thinking of my coffers, not your wellbeing." Zeref's grip had been getting progressively tighter around Erza's waist. He was barely contained fury. She couldn't see his eyes very clearly from her position as his lapdog but she could just imagine what he looked like. Her fingers swirled on his neck while her mind ticked away counting all the ways she could do him serious harm if he decided that he was in the room for violence.

"If you have a reasonable offer," Zeref concluded, "I will be willing to listen."

Kyouka's mouth was pursed. "That is my only offer. Tell me you'll consider it and we'll consider your debt waived." Zeref's mouth came open with an objection. "Just _consider,_ Mister Dragneel. We could be powerful together, and you could have your revenge. The way I hear it told through the mouths of those that listen, Rahkeid was poisoned by the Black Dragon and his Cardinal. If you ask me, it was no _accident_ that Rahkeid was involved with this unsavory business, I think Acnologia was trying to hurt you on a very personal level."

"If you ask me," Zeref said. "You know too much, Kyouka."

"I only know what the streets whisper," she said innocently.

Zeref had had enough. "Excuse me." He loosened his hold on Erza, inviting her to rise. She was slow.

"If you're through, won't you come upstairs, Mister Dragneel? I have a room with massage oils and—"

"The only whore I want is Mirajane Strauss." Zeref acted like Erza hadn't spoken and addressed Kyouka. "I'd like to hire her."

Erza didn't like the look in Zeref's eye. Neither did Kyouka, apparently, because she said, "Mirajane Strauss owes me a debt, Zeref. She can't pay it if she's strangled in her pillows."

Zeref's jaw clenched and unclenched. Erza had never seen him look so bitter. Bit by bit, she extracted herself from his lap just in case she needed some movement. She didn't think causing a war on her first day as Matriarch-in-training was what her mother had in mind but she wasn't just going to sit there. Zeref said, "I urge you to reconsider."

Kyouka got thinking. "I'll consider if _you_ promise to do the same."

"A whore for a Don's head." Zeref was angry but he wasn't stupid. "I've had better luck at the roulette table, Kyouka, and I don't gamble."

"That's not a no." She smiled sweetly; Erza redirected her ire. Kyouka. Had she ever hated anyone more? Just one and they were dead now.

Zeref stood without answering and stalked to the door. Erza would have been disappointed but Natsu lingered. She saved the slashing and burning she was planning for Kyouka and directed her attention to the younger Dragneel. "Natsu."

He beat her to the punch. "Can I talk to you, Erza? Alone?"

"Come upstairs and—"

He jerked his chin toward the door. "Walk with me." His shoulders were tenser than she'd ever seen before and a second later, Erza thought she understood _why_. The door to the stairway was open behind the bar and there was Lisanna, leaning against it wearing something much more revealing than her purple pajamas; Angel had no reservations. Silver fabric made Lisanna look like a monochromatic doll. The silvered gun in her hand only added to the illusion. It was pointed to the ground and it was unmistakably one of Somnium's weapons, Erza could see the signature stencil of the dreaming tree on the muzzle even from where she stood. She wondered if Angel was dead or just foolish to give Lisanna a gun.

Erza came to Natsu's side. She didn't take his arm or stand too close to him like she usually might, aware of Lisanna's watchful eye.

"What is she doing here?" Natsu's voice was so low, Erza almost couldn't hear it.

"We had to take her from the hospital. Mira was afraid after she didn't go through with shooting Zeref. And she was right, Acnologia's men attacked us on the way out."

"She isn't safe here, either."

"She's safer here than in the hospital," Erza assured him.

Natsu wrestled with that. "She wants to see me."

"Then see her." Not that she felt like she should be giving romantic advice. "You're all she's been talking about." Though _why_ Lisanna stood hiding in the doorway, Erza didn't _know_.

"I don't have time. We have things to do." He seemed to realize what he said and came back with, "You should find somewhere else for her to be. I'll allocate funds—you can give them to her and Mira and—"

"Mira owes Somnium a debt." Erza used the voice she thought her mother would approve of and felt like not just a bully but an Eileen clone. _See? You_ were _cut out for this work._ "Which means so does Lisanna. She'll be staying here."

"Erza, please—"

"I'm sorry, Natsu. But if you want, I can arrange a better meeting for you and Lisanna."

His breath seized up.

"You can have a room upstairs." She wondered if Lisanna would try to gouge Natsu's eye out like she did for Acnologia. Perhaps not. From the stairwell, she looked at Natsu with fervor. She was in love with him.

Natsu seemed incapable of saying yes or no. Erza recognized that torn look in his eye. She'd worn it herself, and recently. "Come back tomorrow at noon when it's quiet. She'll be waiting in the Lilac room."

His breath puffed out and his head nodded minutely.

_Good._ Now only if she could get him to be a little more cooperative. "Maybe you can help me now."

"With what?"

Erza was aware of Kyouka's attention from the other side of the room. Her mother was singing again, her voice loud enough to obscure their conversation so she felt safe enough to say, "Why was your brother so sure Rahkeid was involved with the Cardinal?"

Natsu shut down some. "I shouldn't be discussing—"

"You can trust me." She would have taken his hand and tried to charm him but not a hope in hell with the more volatile Strauss' gaze on her back.

Natsu sighed and reached into the inner pocket of the dark suit he wore. He pulled out an old-school polaroid that had obviously been looked at plenty, its corners curled and the heart of the picture creased.

Rahkeid wasn't featured but the girl found on March second was. _Laura_ , Erza remembered. _Her name was Laura_. By the time she'd figured out her name, Erza had sort of made sense of what she was seeing. Laura's hands weren't clasped in front of her, they were bound, her makeup wasn't purposefully smudged, that was tear streaks, her skin wasn't naturally pale. She was dead and doused with holy water, and kneeling in front of an altar. She wasn't yet in a crown of thorns, that would come after, but at her bent knees was a coil of wire. _Soon that would be sliding in her skin and she'd be arranged._ It looked like maybe her spine and her legs had already been done, that's why she could kneel without falling over; it was her head that flopped weirdly.

Erza flipped the picture over mostly because she couldn't look at it anymore (it was Lucy she was seeing, in a red wig, it was herself and fear had a _bitter_ flavour) and saw the back had been written upon.

_As we discussed,_ it said simply in neat block writing.

She wanted to drop the picture and step on it or burn it until it was no more. She found her voice. "This could have just been sent to him."

"It could have," Natsu agreed. "Zeref didn't want to take any chances and to be frank, Erza, neither did I." He was cold as ice.

"Can I keep it?" she asked.

Natsu looked at her warily. "Why?"

That was more difficult to explain. "I won't ask what you and Lisanna are doing, I'd appreciate it if you did the same."

"I've looked at it enough," he said finally. "I don't want it getting to Kyouka's hands, though. If I find it did…"

"Don't threaten me, Natsu. I don't respond well," Erza said blatantly.

His chest fell; the intense look in his eye never wavered. "Just tell me you understand."

"I understand. Kyouka won't see it." She turned her body just slightly and slipped the picture between her breasts. It felt _filthy_ there. She didn't want it on her skin or anywhere _near_ her for that matter. It couldn't be helped.

Natsu didn't bother saying goodbye to her or ' _see you tomorrow at noon_.' He walked out with the air of a man deeply perturbed. Was he bothered by the picture or by himself? His ability to kill his nephew without remorse or the fear of seeing his ex-fiancée after years of separation? He was hard to read. A hard to read man was a dangerous one.

"Erza." Kyouka's voice cracked like a whip as soon as they were alone.

Erza whirled on her, more than ready to fight. "Mira isn't yours to offer to Zeref."

"She knows that," Eileen dared to say from the stage while it was just them in the room. "I told her to say whatever was necessary to get Zeref on our side."

" _Why_?"

"Because, Acnologia has been using the Cardinal as a front to scare us, to push us around and take control and I'm through with it. He's single-handedly crippled business for every Matriarch in this city and has thusly hurt Zeref as well. If it wasn't him that soiled Rahkeid, I'd be very surprised." Eileen put the microphone back in its holder. "An alliance would be good for everyone."

"Rahkeid was damaged well before the Cardinal came along," Erza said, remembering Mira coming home and recounting Rahkeid's _'Pray to me_ '.

"He was an easy target," Eileen said.

"That's still no excuse to _offer_ Mira. You said she could be _safe_ here." Erza heard Lisanna step out into the main room as she spoke. She didn't alter her words for fear of what Lisanna might do. She would _not_ live her life terrified of _everything_. Nor would she spend her whole life tearing apart everything that scared her. _Would not._

"I'll protect Mira." Lisanna's voice was as hollow as a void. Unsettling.

Erza kept her eyes forward and asked, "Is Angel dead?"

It was Angel that responded. "You think very little of me, Erza." She stepped out before Erza; she, too, had changed her clothes. Now she was in a sapphire blue dress appropriate for a Somnium night.

"Then _why_ is Lisanna armed?"

"I asked her what she wanted to do and she told me she wanted to help out. And we suddenly had a position open for an enforcer." Angel showed her teeth.

" _Why_?" Erza asked.

"Because I need a night off." Angel helped herself to a gin and tonic behind the bar. "Want one?"

"No." Erza looked not to her mother but Kyouka, knowing anything else would be unacceptable when there were others in the room. "Lisanna—" Is unpredictable, deranged, _strange_. She didn't know how to say what she wanted to say without insulting the youngest Strauss.

"I'll allow for this until she makes trouble," Kyouka said. "Everyone needs something to do."

_And then what?_ Lisanna shoots the wrong person and gets shot herself? Lisanna makes trouble and is gifted to Acnologia as a peace offering because it seemed Zeref wasn't going to play any games? There was a headache building between Erza's eyes. She huffed. "I want nothing to do with this."

"Good." Kyouka waved her off like she _could_ be dismissed. Erza thought about punching her even as she started up the stairs. There was a picture between her breasts that told her to keep going. There were other, more important evils to smite.


	25. Chapter 25

Seeing himself reflected back in the above-the-bed mirror with Mira's hair feathered across his chest was a strange thing for Laxus. Looking at them like this, he thought they kind of fit together like two jagged not-quite-right puzzle pieces. What had begun as a 'rent-a-whore' fucking to clear his head and help him _relax_ had turned into something he wanted to _want_ to fend off with a twelve-foot pole. Yet he couldn't even get her off his fucking chest. He couldn't stop his fingers from going through her hair and he regretted that his skin was rough on hers, his knuckles still cracked from where he'd punched Elfman Strauss in the face.

Worse yet? When she tried to push herself up to look at him, he adjusted so she was forced in closer. With her weight leaning on his ribs, Laxus thought he still hurt bad enough that he could take another Percocet. He didn't think about it very hard, mind you, he wasn't sure he _liked_ the detached world-spinning high he got from it and it wasn't exactly something he could take and still _work_ on _._ He'd be looping in the corner telling Jellal how good of a partner he was again while the Cardinal stared them down and that would be the end.

"I think I'm going to ask Erza if you can come back here." Mira's breath tickled his neck.

"Hm?"

"Somnium doesn't usually let your kind through here, does it?"

No. Not typically. Like the Prayer, it tried to keep a handle on its clientele and that generally meant no cops. His mouth was moving, asking, "Does that mean you want to see me again?" without his say-so. He felt like since he told her he put Elfman in jail, he'd been walking on eggshells. It was a feeling he hated; he wasn't built for eggshells.

Mira wasn't in the game of placating him. She swirled her fingers over his chest and avoided answering altogether because _she_ probably didn't know, either. "Are you really going to take me to see Elfman when I'm done here tonight?"

"Sure."

"It might be late."

Incapable of pushing her away and incapable of saying no. Laxus longed for the ease in which he _usually_ put women aside whenever he had the time to entertain them. No matter how he tried, declining her just wouldn't come. "That's alright. I'll be up." Waiting for her to be done, likely.

He thought she saw through his words because Mira's smile was half-mast. Her fingers trekked to his torn up knuckles and glazed over them. It hurt and it felt nice; Laxus never told her to stop because he was fascinated by that fascinated look on her face. It only got more reverent when she took in his bruised cheekbones and scarred cheek and started tallying all of his other tales as well, pushing aside the collar of his shirt to see where he'd been shot. "I think you've been unlucky."

That's what Gramps said, too. "I like to be in the middle of things."

"Me, too."

He knew what kinds of thrills she liked. He saw with clarity then how they were feeding off each other. It wasn't good. She would push and he'd let her because he liked it, too.

Laxus said, "I gotta get up and find Jellal."

Mira sighed. "I should get ready, too."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Laxus asked again. "I could—"

"No. This is my mess."

"What happened?"

She wavered. "I was told to do something that I didn't, and then... I needed help."

Her crypticness was unsettling. "Mira—"

"Please don't ask, Laxus. I'm in enough of a bind." She still wouldn't meet his eye. "Telling you the details might make things worse for me. I don't think Somnium's Matriarch helped me out with the thought that I could tell whoever I saw fit."

That was _frustrating._ "You can trust me."

She bit her lips together hard enough that they turned white. "There's more at stake than just trust, Laxus. I have to do what's best for Lisanna and for now, I think that means being quiet."

Again, Laxus wished for Jellal's skills at getting information out of people. He was wry and sneaky in a way Laxus just couldn't mimic and for some stupid reason, people just _talked_ to him. _It's because he looks shady as fuck,_ Laxus decided. It was the hair and the tattoo and his known affiliation with the Prayer. Criminals trusted him more than the grandson of the MPD's last Captain. That _had_ to be it.

"I'll talk to Erza and see what she says. If it's okay then I'll tell you," Mira finished.

It was suddenly easier to untangle from Mira. Laxus moved slower than he liked; his ribs hurt and he was still mouth-breathing thanks to Elfman and would be for a while. With his feet beneath him, he chanced a look back at the girl he'd left on the bed. Mira slowly sat up; her hair, usually fine like spider's silk, was knotty. Despite her disheveled look, she'd put away the girl that cried and donned the mask she wore the first night he met her.

"Don't be mad, Laxus."

"Don't try to manipulate me into not being mad, Mirajane."

She didn't smile or laugh off his accusation. "Then how do I convince you?"

"You don't."

"I don't know if I like that answer." He knew he was a sucker even before she started a slow prowl across the black sheets and reached for him. He liked the way she looked at him through lashes swiped in mascara that had run both in the rain and from her tears. He liked the switch that she _flipped_. He liked the way that she was two different people rolled into one crazy package that every neuron in his brain told him to _leave the fuck alone,_ and he liked that he could _not._ "You're trouble."

"I know."

Laxus watched her fingers swoop into his belt loops and stepped nearer when she pulled him that way. She kissed his chest through his shirt and then his neck; his jaw came next; Laxus was aware he had to shave. He stopped caring when she kissed him as she _always_ kissed him—without reservations. Did she kiss other men like this? He thought it wasn't even worth pondering. His wanting to _do_ this with her continually was fucked up enough as it was without the torture things like jealousy added.

He wanted to be one of those douche bags that told her not to bother going to work that night. He found some self-respect and the words got stuck in his throat. He kissed her with fervor just to get away from that and found himself in deeper. The only way to get away was to get away from _her_.

Laxus took her by the shoulders and pushed her away more roughly than necessary. Mira didn't look affronted when she fell to the pillows with a very faint glimmer of fear to her eyes. He expected her to say something like, _'Leave_ ' or ' _don't be so rough_ ' or ' _rough like that is extra_ '. When she said nothing but spread her legs and touched herself, it made Laxus feel _more_ at odds.

"I have to go," he said again.

Mira smiled like she didn't expect him to leave. "Alright."

"So call me when you're done."

She moved her fingers faster. "Okay," came out like a moan.

Laxus' palms tingled. He _knew_ she was manipulating him. He knew he thought she was a bitch for it, too. He also knew he was going to come back and kiss her so he wasn't _too_ disappointed with himself when he made his stiff body curl over her and he captured her mouth once more. She still tasted like old lipstick. He told himself he'd stop when he'd tasted her tongue and when he had that, he told himself that he'd stop just as soon as she tried to have more.

Mira was happy just like this. Her free hand locked in his hair and her breath came faster. Laxus allowed himself some indulgence and gripped her breast. She took her lips from his so she could look at his torn knuckles against her body and that seemed to be all the encouragement she needed. She bowed and shuddered and maybe—just maybe—muttered his name.

Laxus pinched her pert nipple in lieu of kissing her again. It was challenging getting back up straight; his pants were too tight and so was his ribs, both for different reasons. Mira eyed him, expecting him to come to her again. Laxus took more pleasure than he _should_ have in denying her. She wasn't the kind of woman that usually had men hold out. That would have been reason enough even if there wasn't work to do. And there was that small bit of obligation he felt toward Jellal—sometimes, his partner could be erratic. He'd hidden that part of himself away for many years but no one drank tequila with a girl like Erza Scarlet and passed around the kind of stories he did when he was six beers deep—if they were to be believed, of course— _without_ being a bit of a wildcard.

"I'll see you later, Mirajane."

Even when he was at the door, she didn't look like she _believed_ he'd leave. It made coming out into Somnium's hallway easier. He closed the door firmly behind himself and refused to think about what kinds of people would walk through it later on that night—men, woman, both together. That wasn't a problem. He saw Erza Scarlet in the flesh coming up Somnium's curling stairs and was thoroughly distracted. She looked uncomfortable in that too-tight dress she was wearing; her hands kept lingering around her sternum.

"This way," she said as soon as she laid eyes on him. Laxus followed without question and was only a little perturbed when she led him toward a room marked with bleeding hearts. The flowers dripped off their stems looking very, very lifelike. The artist that had scrawled them there had been skilled.

Erza pushed open the door without knocking and ushered Laxus through; her grip on his arm was firm and sure. On the other side, there stood Jellal by the window. He turned with a somber look on his face that fell into one of exasperation when he saw Laxus.

"This isn't Zeref."

"Obviously," Laxus replied.

"He wouldn't come up," Erza said impatiently. Jellal huffed and made for the door. "Maybe I can still catch him."

Erza snagged his arm. "Don't. Zeref won't talk to you. Not today."

"I have to try—"

"He will _shoot_ you, Jellal. He will kill you and he will get his guys to clean up the body just like he cleaned up Rahkeid's and he'll do it without remorse. So just _don't._ "

Laxus wasn't on the receiving end of Erza's glower but even he stalled short.

Satisfied when Jellal backed down, Erza said, "I did get something, though." She reached between her breasts; Laxus looked away and felt his ears burning. "Here." Erza took out a square of paper and passed it to Jellal first. "Natsu gave this to me. He said he found it in Rahkeid's things."

Jellal's mouth got taut and he did what he could not to put his fingerprints all over everything. "I thought we talked about preserving evidence?"

Erza's cheeks went almost as red as her hair. "Look, I didn't plan on getting the picture, I couldn't do anything about it."

Jellal's face blanked enough that most of his annoyance was smothered. "It's fine."

"Yeah, it's going to have to be," Erza replied contemptuously.

"Save the lover's quarrel and let me see." Laxus gathered 'round and felt his stomach drop. Laura Stone looked back at him, dead as dead could be and in the process of getting strung up. Any stray arousal he'd felt for Mirajane withered. "Rahkeid had this?"

"That's what Natsu said," Erza replied.

Jellal flipped the picture over and read the back aloud. " _As we discussed_."

"I take it that means this wasn't originally Rahkeid's picture?" Laxus reasoned.

"We don't know that."

Laxus was ridiculously relieved to hear his partner say something so _Jellal-_ like. Gather the facts. Strike. That's how Jellal worked. Jumping to conclusions and following his gut was Laxus' routine and he _hated_ being in the opposite seat for as long as it had lasted.

Then Jellal ruined everything by saying, "It seems likely, though. Tores and Rahkeid were probably in on it together or somehow, Rahkeid found out and blackmailed Tores into giving him the picture. _'As we discussed._ It makes perfect sense."

" _Why_ would Rahkeid do that?"

"Because he's fucked up?" Jellal replied sharply. "We work _Homicide_ , Laxus, pick the darkest reason you can muster and that's your answer." Laxus realized he'd been fooled; Jellal was more erratic than he'd ever seen before.

"You're getting this all wrong, man," Laxus told him. Jellal looked at him quizzically. Laxus said, "You're supposed to be the voice of _reason_. Run and gun is _my_ gig. Just—chill so we can make sure we're not jamming puzzle pieces where they don't belong."

"He's right, Jellal," Erza offered her two cents.

Jellal looked back and forth between them and visibly struggled.

"I don't even think your supposition is _wrong_ ," Laxus told him. "I just think we're getting ahead of ourselves a bit. Maybe it's Tores. Maybe it's not. Maybe the killer's got us chasing our tails, looking in the wrong direction. Look at what our sources are."

Erza looked slighted but Laxus wasn't worried about her—no more than he was worried about Mirajane, anyway (conveniently forgetting he'd been grilling her about her and her brother's whereabouts only a little while ago). No, the real question was _Kyouka_. Kyouka who had walked into the station with her accusations. She was the match that lit everything aflame. "It's not real reliable, is it?"

"I've been nothing but _cooperative,_ " Erza bit out.

Jellal blinked and it was like a man waking from a dream—it still clung to him, but he was standing mostly in the real world. He took the picture back from Laxus and studied it _hard._ What he said next was music to Laxus' ears. "I recognize this altar."

"You do?"

"Yeah..."

"From where?"

Jellal was making a habit of ruining things. "I don't know. But it looks so familiar."

Laxus couldn't bite back the string of annoyed words that came to mind. "Well, you just take your time, think on that and when you're ready—"

Jellal opened his mouth. Laxus imagined the _'Fuck off'_ his partner had primed. Jellal let it slide last minute. With the way his eyes travelled to Erza, Laxus could just imagine why. Like she'd never heard a _'fuck'_ in her life. No, she was a nun.

He must have been transparent because Jellal's expression only got stormier. Laxus cleared his throat and studied the altar again. "It's old. And dusty," he added by way of apology.

Jellal grudgingly said, "So it hasn't been used for some time."

"Not for anything traditional anyway." Beneath Laura's feet was a copper stain far too wide. Unlike the hydroponics room they'd found beneath Kardia Cathedral, many women had been killed there. "Did Kardia Cathedral have an old cordoned off room like this?" Even as he asked it, he knew the answer was _no—_ they would have found it when they tore up the church—but hoped that the question would jar a _eureka_ moment out of his partner. Jellal gave him nothing.

A tapping on the door destroyed their thought progress and had Jellal shoving the picture into his pocket; the door swung open without any other warning. Lisanna Strauss looked at them with eyes that had been rimmed with red liner, lashes teased with black mascara, and behind her was Gildarts Clive. "Your Captain is on the phone." Lisanna's voice was a little bit sweet, a little bit tart.

Laxus' nerves took a rough pitch. It seemed like Jellal wasn't going to say anything so he offered to take the proverbial bullet. "Where?"

"Downstairs." Lisanna lounged against the doorframe like she was _always_ supposed to be there. If she was nervous or uncertain she betrayed _nothing_. "This way."

Erza said something to Jellal that Laxus missed; he was too busy coming unstuck from his standing position; it took _effort_ to follow Lisanna out. It got easier, though. As he crossed the balcony, he thought of what he was going to say to Ultear—what lie he could tell to convince her that he wasn't ignoring her calls, that they were just _busy_. Nothing good would come so as he passed by Mira's door and watched Lisanna look at it for a long time, he took the opportunity to avoid Ultear-of-his-thoughts and study her.

Mira's hair was spider's silk, Lisanna's was feathers. The blue lights overhead made her look like a wraith and nearly a clone of her older sister. The only things that really set them apart were her body was softer after years of being stuck in the hospital and her eyes were much more untrusting. One would be fixed by just a bit of exercise, the other… Laxus didn't think that look would ever go away. There was once when he and Jellal were new Detectives they followed a lead to a drug house after a kid got stabbed over a deal gone bad. There was a Boxer there with a similar look in her eye. Wary, untrusting, and violent. Laxus remembered shooting the dog because it attacked and _nothing_ would convince it to back down.

He hoped for Mira's sake Lisanna never found herself in that situation.

"Why are you here, Lisanna?" Laxus dared to ask on a whim.

She looked back over her shoulder and her silver dress glitzed. "What you mean is, why am I not in the hospital anymore?" she asked with false sweetness.

"Yeah. What happened?"

"You should just stop there, Lisanna," Gildarts cut in before Laxus could get a proper explanation. He regarded Laxus. "And you, too."

"If she wants to talk, she can talk," Laxus said, brave enough with Gildarts ahead of him, Jellal at his side and his gun's holster unclipped.

"No, she can't."

The need to salvage his pride after their first meeting had him arguing. "Really, because—"

Gildarts' hazel gaze pinned Laxus more thoroughly than any knife blade might have. "Are you new to this, Dreyar?"

"Do I look new?" Laxus asked.

"You're acting new. You do most of your work in the slats, right?" A poor part of the city where illegal whores sold themselves, small-time drug dealers peddled their dope and wannabe gangs scrapped about things like territory and shirt colour and who-fucked-who's mom—the kids that didn't know who _really_ ran the city, the kids that thought when they turned the gun sideways, it made them look cool—those were the ones that got shot _without_ fail because those were the stupid ones and those were _usually_ the ones Laxus ended up investigating.

"I go where the work takes me."

In response, Gildarts snorted in a way that made Laxus _furious._ He felt obligated to say, "The Cardinal's not my first serial case."

"Sure. But those cases, they're few and far between. That's fine, no one's judging you." That was a blatant lie. _Gildarts_ was judging him. "I like to be fair so let me give you some tips. You're not dealing with petty gangs anymore. The game has changed. You need to start playing by a new set of rules if you want to keep going home at night."

Laxus itched with the threat.

"Don't look so disrespected. You're not the first cop to come through here with his read-you-your-rights cock out only to leave with his tail between his legs. I'm here to tell you, there ain't no shame in walking away."

It sounded plenty shameful to Laxus. Gildarts had no trouble reading that. In a placating manner, he said, "You should ask Commissioner Gryder how he got so high up or hell, even your grandfather. He'll tell you it's because he kept his mouth shut when he was supposed to and he never asked the wrong people the wrong questions.

"Crimes will be committed and people will be prosecuted but it's the ones people like _Tante_ Eileen _want_ prosecuted, understand? You're young, I get that. Ignorant. So trust me to tell you, kid, you are asking the _wrong questions_ to the _wrong people_."

Laxus had a hard time thinking of another argument. He was mostly saved by Lisanna's ingénue and ephemeral smirk. "You know my sister is going to be a police officer. Constable Strauss. She told me she was writing the exam."

No one said anything like _'whores don't usually become police officers_.' Who knew what Lisanna would do? But aside from that, Laxus imagined he was the only one of the bunch that knew the truth; all of Mira's money had been going toward Lisanna's care and there was no academy for her. No exam and likely no _Constable_ in her future, not with the way her life kept imploding and her bad decisions kept racking up.

On the ground level, the woman on the stage sang for a group of newly seated men in fine business suits. Aside from the drinks that Kyouka brought to them personally, (Laxus figured that meant that they were _important_ in some regard) they had stacks of papers splayed out. It was a business deal. He supposed there were stranger places to do important work—though, given their location, he had to assume that it wasn't _legitimate_ business that had them gathered around. Their eyes came to him and he remembered what Jellal said about his cop walk. Try as he might, he couldn't help walking like there was a gun hanging on his side—there _was_. He glanced to his partner and thought what he'd _always_ thought—Jellal fit in places like this.

"Phone's behind the bar," Gildarts said. "Don't be long. And afterward, I suggest you find someplace else to be."

Jellal didn't try to race with him for the phone. When procrastination had stretched into the realms of _unreasonable_ , Laxus bit the bullet and stalked behind the bar. He expected a cordless phone but was greeted by an old-school rotary so black and so shiny, it looked brand-new. It was with a strange throwback to his childhood, playing in his grandfather's house, calling people he shouldn't be calling _before_ he knew what prank calling really _was,_ that he picked up the mouthpiece. "Captain?"

"Laxus."

She almost _never_ called him by his first name. If he wasn't nervous before, he certainly was _now._ "Yeah."

"I want you and Jellal to get back to the station, now."

"Captain—"

"I'm not arguing." Her voice held more electricity than a cattle fence.

Laxus turned his back to where Gildarts and Lisanna watched him like a pair of vultures and said, "If this is about not answering our phones, cell reception is super shit with the storm and—"

"Don't insult me. Get back here."

"Yes, Ma'am." What else was there to say?

The dial tone met his ear. Laxus hung it up slowly and turned; he half expected to see Jellal _gone_ but there he was, looking at Laxus more than a little hollowly. Laxus held out his hand and said, "Keys," with an authority that—hopefully—told Jellal that there wasn't an option. Several emotions flitted over Jellal's face. He landed lastly on resignation. Laxus didn't believe it, not until those keys were in his hand, but when they were, he said without looking at Gildarts, "Tell the _Tante_ we said thank you for the hospitality."

"I'll pass it along," Gildarts said and added so _casually,_ "And you tell that grandfather of yours hello."

He wanted to tell him to fuck himself. He knew he'd carry out Gildarts' request because he was dying to grill his grandfather about it. Seemed like the Dreyar's had more secrets than they did truths between them. "Sure."

Laxus practiced shirking his cop walk on the way out—not that it mattered, anyone that saw him and knew what they were looking for already _knew_ he belonged to the MPD. No bullet found his back. _Bully for me._ That could change in a breath with a word from _Tante_ Eileen. There was no denying the thrill of it in a devil-may-care kind of way. He wasn't lying to himself, he and Mira had a lot in common.

* * *

Jellal felt like he was in a weird twilight zone where Erza's _'you'll catch him as a detective, not a shade-of-grey criminal'_ and his own rage went tête-à-tête, round and round and round. Where he thought of _Tante_ Alba's wants and his own desire for justice. _How far would you go?_ As far as he needed to in order to catch the Cardinal. As far as he needed to in order to put an _end_ to this.

He was so distracted, he barely noticed climbing into his own passenger's seat, he barely noticed Laxus fiddling with his phone and synching the Bluetooth and he barely noticed the car growling to life. Songs came and went, everything from Rise Against to Rob Zombie. It shouldn't have taken that long to get to the station; Laxus had done several circuits around the city, biding his time. Jellal only _really_ came out of his stupor and appreciated his partner's efforts to give him some time to process and think of a plan of action when they pulled into the fleet parking and he looked upon the brick building. There were the stones he'd pulled Laxus off yesterday (had so little time passed? It felt like forever ago) and there was the front door opening. The same doors that had welcomed their killer inside. He _knew_ what Laxus said and he knew what his gut said. He knew Tores was their guy. He also knew he fucked up in letting Tores _know_ it, too.

Jellal shoved his fingers through his hair again and again and blew out a hot breath.

"Smoke?" Laxus offered, holding out a crumpled pack he'd tugged from his equally crumpled suit jacket.

Jellal turned his nose up. "No."

"Drink? I know for a fact Laki in Records keeps a bottle of gin in the drunk and disorderly section."

He was ashamed at how _much_ he wanted to take his partner up on that offer. "Not worth it."

"Probably not."

"What did she say?" he asked.

Laxus didn't need him to say _Ultear_ , they were both thinking about only one woman. "Just that she wanted us back here."

"That's not good."

"Nope." Laxus jammed a cigarette into his mouth and pulled out his bic. Jellal waited for him to light it in the car so he could take out some of his frustration. Laxus knew better than that, though. He got out and slammed the door and Jellal quickly realized that he couldn't sit there forever, dreading the inevitable. He threw open his door and stepped into the cool spring air. It had stopped raining briefly but there was another storm on the horizon coming at break-neck speeds.

The car door echoed loudly off the black and white fleet vehicles. There was the Tahoe waiting patiently for them to take it out, and there were some marked—and unmarked—cruisers. His midnight Charger stood out amongst the pack. Jellal decided that the ground looked better and followed the scent of smoke Laxus left wafting in his wake. At the building, his partner jammed the butt out in the ashtray and tugged open the front doors. The fact that they were already open was probably the only reason Jellal walked through.

Gun oil, cigarettes, coffee, perfume and old alcohol. The station's familiar scent engulfed him and further bolstered his resolve, especially when he looked up and saw Ultear leaning on the bannister with her arms crossed. She was in a white skirt today and a navy blue blouse that hung off her frame with purposeful elegance that strove for accidental. That was Ultear in a nutshell. Jellal wondered if he shouldn't have complimented her more during his career? If he shouldn't have been stupid like Gray Fullbuster and tried to balance bedding her and working beneath her. Perhaps it would have saved him now?

It never would have worked; he knew how good Ultear was at _cutting_. Besides, he didn't want midnight sliding through his fingers. If he was honest with himself, he wanted scarlet.

Jellal mounted the stairs and went directly to Ultear's office without being asked. His purposeful saunter didn't preclude him from looking in Tores' empty office and searching for _something_ condemning that he could see on the surface. Men like him were careful, yes, but _arrogant_ , especially now that he'd eluded capture for _so long_. The picture in Jellal's pocket burned through him. There was a clue in it, he was _sure_. He couldn't see it, though.

_Tante_ Alba haunted him, telling him that the answer was before his eyes, telling him he'd see it when he was meant to.

_I need to see_ now.

The dead kept their own agenda; she helped him not.

Ultear followed them in without a word. She was efficient, never wasting breath. It was with that same efficiency that she told them they were off the case. Conflict of interest. She offered to Laxus the chance to keep working with another detective. He declined. She put her attentions to Jellal next. "If I give you two a different case, will you work it and keep your heads down and your mouths shut?"

"I can't," Jellal rasped, too truthful by half.

"I don't want to have to put you on a leave of absence, Jellal."

"I won't stop."

She bit her cheek and held out her hand palm-up. Jellal knew what she wanted without being told. He yanked off his badge and pulled out his gun. They didn't go into her hand; they went on the desk as a minor and childish show of rebellion. "You're making a mistake."

"I know a mistake when it greets me," she agreed. "I'm stuck, Jellal."

" _Why?_ You told me you didn't know who to trust and now you're kicking me off the case?"

She looked at him sadly. "Everyone knows about your connection with _Tante_ Alba. If I _don't_ pull you off, that's fertilizer for the Cardinal's defence when he _is_ caught. You were distraught, you were seeing shadows where there was none, and suddenly the Cardinal's free. Sometimes, the smart choice isn't always the best one."

She was right. He knew she was right. He also had very strong and not-so-PC opinions on the matter.

Ultear rolled past his sour-as-lemons expression and went on, allowing her efficiency to make another appearance when Laxus raised his voice to argue how _stupid_ this conflict of interest thing _was._ She shot him down with unparalleled skill and switched gears like an automatic transmission to tell Jellal how sorry she was for his loss.

Maybe she was sorry one of her best detectives was off the case. She wasn't sad _Tante_ Alba was gone. Ultear's opinions on the bordellos and the barely above-board in-the-right-light women running them was clear.

"It won't be for long," she assured when she told Jellal he'd be getting a paid leave under the guise of grievance. What she really meant was to swallow the large and bitter pill she'd given him. "As soon as this is put to rest, you're welcomed back."

Jellal stood and approached the door.

He could still hear Laxus arguing behind him, standing in his corner. He wished Laxus wouldn't. He was going to get told to go home and put his feet up, too.

As he descended the stairs lighter than he'd ascended with nothing to mark him as a Magnolia Police Department Homicide Detective, he turned Erza's words over in his mind. He didn't know how to solve this case as a right-side-of-the-law-detective without his badge. He would solve it, though.


	26. Chapter 26

By the time Laxus realized that he was alone with Ultear in her office, he'd exhausted his avenue of argument and Jellal was long gone. Ultear's rouged lips came together as soon as she honed in on Laxus honing in on Jellal's absence and the look in her eye changed from barely-put-together patience and understanding to unkind.

"You can drop the guard dog act. Your partner is gone."

"It's not a fucking act," Laxus rasped mostly for his own benefit.

Ultear pulled her dark hair over her shoulder and leaned back in her chair. "Enough, Dreyar. I'm still your Captain and you'll still speak to me as such, unless of course you, too, want to hand in your gun and that badge."

She wasn't playing. Laxus, despite his bravado, didn't want to go home empty handed. More calmly, he said, "No, ma'am."

Some of Ultear's hard lines around the edges of her eyes softened. "Tell me what he's thinking. Where's his head? You were beside him when they uncovered Alba, right?"

_Tante_. Laxus wouldn't correct her aloud, not today, but silently? Sure, why not? "He's..."

"A mess?" she offered.

"He's sure it's Tores."

"It looks good," she agreed.

"I don't know. Maybe not." He explained to her Somnium's Matriarch situation and Kyouka's ambitious nature. Ultear was taken aback by the confirmation of what they'd suspected for many years but she wasn't grossly shocked. Laxus said, "It's a bad source and I don't want to put all of our stock in it, not like Jellal." He thought of his partner's dogged conviction. "I've never seen him like this. He's probably gunning to do exactly what you told him not to do. No badge and no gun isn't going to stop him." So what if Laxus was selling out his partner? He told himself that it was for Jellal's own good.

One thin brow went up and Ultear's fingers steepled as she dissected his statement.

"This thing with _Tante_ Alba's got him fucked up," Laxus concluded. More than he'd suspected. It had been _years_ since Jellal lived and worked for the Prayer. Apparently, that wasn't enough.

Ultear mulled over his words. "You really think he's going to do something stupid?"

"You didn't see him." That was the closest Laxus could say to 'yes.'

Ultear's fingers drummed. "You have a new assignment. Go out there and make sure he doesn't mess up."

"For real?"

"It's worth it to us all if Jellal just goes home, has a couple beers, mopes and gets over it. I don't want him tearing up the town, doing more harm than good."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Before you leave today, turn over everything you have on the Cardinal to me so I can pass the case off to IA."

Laxus _still_ thought it was a mistake and told her as much.

"Like I said, you can work with another detective, Dreyar, if you want."

Laxus considered her offer for longer this time without his partner in the room. He came to the same conclusion. "Jellal's my partner."

"For now, he's off the team and I can't let you go solo."

It killed him to say, "Then I guess I don't go at all." He _wanted_ to be in the middle of the action. It was the _principle_ of the matter that kept him from satiating that want.

Her smile was wan. "Take the rest of the day off tomorrow, too, if you need to. Get some rest and think about it."

Laxus sensed his dismissal. At the door, he paused with his hand on the knob. "Where _is_ the Super?"

Ultear sighed and dropped her hands to her lap. "Without raising suspicion, there was only so much I could do to keep him here after he came back to tell me about that debacle at the church." Before Laxus could rant and swear, she said, "The tail I had on him reported that he'd actually returned home. Let's see if he stays there."

_Here's hoping_.

* * *

Jellal's car was no longer in the parking lot. Laxus swore and pulled out his phone. The battery was nearly dead. His notifications said he'd missed a call from his grandfather and a text that said, _'Are you coming home?'_ He took the time and wasted the battery to say ' _Yeah'_ but didn't bother specifying _when_ exactly he'd be back—if he got held up, his grandfather was _sure_ to get antsy. With that sent off, he called Jellal.

Laxus wasn't expecting him to answer so it was a pleasant surprise to hear Jellal on the other end. "Yeah?"

"You left me here," Laxus said firstly. Jellal was quiet. "You _picked me up_ this morning," Laxus clarified. "And I don't have a car." The more he explained, the angrier he became.

"Fuck, man. Sorry." Jellal sounded properly shamed. "I'll—"

"Don't bother, I'll walk," Laxus said. "Are you heading home?"

Jellal's sigh was all resignation. "I have to go check on Beau. And then…"

"Meet me at _Be Franks_?" Laxus suggested.

"I was going to say I was going to crash, actually."

Yeah, Jellal was a good liar; his voice never changed cadence, it never shook. He delivered with unfaltering skill. Laxus still knew. He knew because he wouldn't just go home, _either._ "It's done."

"Sleeping? Feels like. I don't remember the last time—"

"That's your own damn fault with those gross caffeine pills." Laxus stopped at a streetlight and waited for it to turn green. He felt like he was on display for the whole world to see and indeed if anyone asked, he'd say he was being watched. A look around revealed no one obvious. He more-than-fleetingly wished for his brand new vest and _would_ have gone back for it if the light didn't turn green. He crossed the street in long steps. "What I'm talking about is the case. We're done. It's done. IA has it now. Crash for a couple hours then come out tonight." He had every intention of getting shitty drunk to eviscerate the shame a failed case wrought.

Jellal let his acting slide. "You know I can't just drop it."

"You have to. Ultear wasn't messing around."

" _Tante_ Alba—"

"Wouldn't want you to get fired, not after she dropped so much money on the academy, not after she pulled so many strings to get your shady ass a job. Come out."

Jellal's frustration came out as an audible growl. "Either help me or fuck off."

"I'll come 'round at ten," Laxus spoke like Jellal hadn't. "Wear something without holes in it, you embarrassed me last time."

Jellal didn't even defend his favourite paint-stained sweater, which was unusual enough. The fact that he didn't tell Laxus to fuck off again? Bizarre. _Maybe he doesn't understand_ , Laxus thought. But Jellal said with some resignation, "I'm supposed to see Erza later tonight, too."

"When she calls, we'll get you home." In some sort of condition. Somehow. "Don't flake out on me." His partner didn't say one way or the other. Laxus took that as agreement. "See you in a few hours."

Jellal was cranky enough that he didn't bother saying goodbye before hanging up. Laxus was making a career out of taking them as he could get them and accepted that as a victory. He stuffed his phone into his pocket and jogged across the next street, too. With the feeling of eyes on his body never leaving, he kept the jog going, eager to be out of there. His lungs were real tight two kilometers in and stayed that way. On the way past a garbage can at the edge of a park, he dropped his package of cigarettes inside, thinking without much conviction, _that's it_. He'd probably end up at the convenience store beside _Be Frank_ 's with a pack in his hand later that night. He always wanted to smoke when he drank.

It was with mixed feelings that Laxus rounded the corner and saw a familiar head of cotton hair wandering down the street toward him not-so-far from the bungalow he called home. "What are you doing, Gramps?" he panted when he was closer.

The old man looked up from the ground and tension visibly fled his shoulders. "There you are."

Laxus slowed to a stop. All of his muscles tingled and his lungs burned. He vowed to run more. "I _told_ you I was coming back." His words lacked some righteous conviction while he was so short of breath.

His grandfather had enough for the both of them. "You didn't say when! You didn't even say where you were! You just _ignored_ me."

"So you _wander_ around aimlessly?" Laxus barked. His grandfather had been getting weird fucking ideas in his head lately. It was _not_ okay for him to meander out of the house and he _knew_ that but did he listen? No. He thought he was fine, even though he'd gotten lost and confused on more than one occasion.

"It wasn't _aimlessly_ , I was heading toward the station," Makarov said defensively.

"I suppose I should be thankful you didn't try to drive." Laxus massaged his chest; his throat hole was as small as a needle. _You definitely need to run more_. No excuses. He wasn't as good as Jellal and likely wouldn't ever be; Jellal was lanky and wiry, good for such things. Laxus… Porlyusica had once told him he was built like a bulldozer. Laxus didn't think it was supposed to be a compliment—she'd told him such when he was trying to squeeze between her table and her china cabinet and had broken one of those fucking Oriel plates she was always collecting with one of his shoulders. Size didn't mean much, though, he should be able to run the ten K back to his house from the station.

"Don't talk to me like that." Makarov was defensive.

"I won't when you start thinking like a rational human again." Laxus wasn't very hopeful; he was a realist. His grandfather's best years were behind him now. All that was ahead was progressively worse Alzheimer's. Paranoia and crankiness. It wasn't hard to get frustrated with him for something he couldn't control. Sometimes, all Laxus wanted was the ease of his teenage years. He'd stay out too late doing all the things he shouldn't be doing and when he'd finally stumble home, his grandfather would be waiting where his father should have been, with a severe and cognizant expression on his face. There would be no escaping his wrath then. Laxus wouldn't have to hound him about heart medication. He wouldn't have to worry about the man getting lost going to the grocery store down the road and he wouldn't worry about his grandfather worrying about him out on a case.

Things could be gloriously uncomplicated once more. If only time kept to anyone's schedule but its own.

"I worry."

"Well, don't."

"You haven't been around much," Makarov said.

"This case..." Laxus put it forward like a shitty, half-hearted and awkward apology.

Makarov wasn't as tactful as he had been in the past. "Your father was working a hard case, too, the first night he came home with glassy eyes."

"I'm not my old man," Laxus said and started moving again. The house came into view over the top of the next suburban hill, nestled between other houses in the cul-de-sac with flower gardens and hedges and cedars that were planted too close together because the average suburbanite didn't actually know _anything_ about horticulture. Laxus was there with them. Who gave a fuck?

Makarov fell into step beside him. Laxus almost wished he hadn't because it gave him the opportunity to say, "You carry more of him than you realize."

"No, I—"

"I don't say it to be insulting. I still love Ivan," Makarov said. "You'll be better at peace with yourself when you acknowledge and accept that you have his strengths and weaknesses, too."

Laxus rediscovered the ache in his knuckles that had been lingering since his encounter with Elfman and realized he was clenching his fists. He loosened his grip, recognizing the misguided—and futile attempt at controlling the situation. "I'm done with this. Let's talk instead about Gildarts Clive." He said it to throw his grandfather off balance and was pleased to see that he was somewhat successful.

"Gildarts?"

"He's working at Somnium. Says he knows you."

Once Makarov had gotten over the initial surprise, there was no stammering or objection. "It's certainly been a while."

"Was he involved in a case you were working?" Laxus only wanted one answer.

"Gildarts? No. He always managed to be out of the limelight."

And that wasn't it. Laxus found a way to placate his growing disappointment as the illusion of the last clean-cut member of his family became shattered: he focused on the happy glow his grandfather adopted when he spoke of his policing days. It was one of the few things that _really_ made him happy anymore and he relished the chance to talk about it. He seemed lucid in these moments. "Then how did you know him?"

"Oh… we had a few run-ins here and there. At the time, Gildarts was enforcing for Somnium when it was still owned by Acnologia and not _Tante_ Kyouka."

"Somnium was owned by Acnologia before?" Laxus asked.

"In those days, it was only a bar and not a bordello. Being in the part of town it _is_ , there were a lot of fights there. We were called out every Friday and Saturday, without fail. It got to the point where me and my partner just took ourselves to the bar and sat out front, waiting for the disorderly. Sometimes, Gildarts brought them out to us."

That's what he said. He was holding something back. "Sometimes? But not always?"

Makarov looked to the sky turning navy; night was upon them. "Not always."

"What happened to the ones he didn't bring out?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Or you wouldn't care to know?" His silence said it all. Laxus said, "You better not be saying what I think you're saying."

"Sometimes, there wasn't anything to be done. The criminals take care of their own when they need to."

"Yeah, when the cops just _let_ them." It wasn't a _new_ philosophy. It was one he didn't want to apply to his grandfather, though, who always stood for justice, especially when justice was falling down. He'd had a shitty enough day to say, "I thought you were better than that."

Makarov courted anger. "What was I to do? A man like Gildarts is well protected and doesn't get caught easy, boy."

"Something. Sounds like you didn't even try."

Makarov fluffed him off. "You don't know anything."

"I know that you have a friend in a known criminal." Laxus pushed aside the memory of Mira and her lax truthfulness when it came to her brother's actions. He also purposefully didn't think about Jellal and his not-so-legal involvement with _Tante_ Alba. And he especially didn't think of his own father.

"I don't regret it. Being in this business, you'll realize one day that a friend on the wrong side of the law is a good friend to have." Makarov hesitated. "It was Gildarts that told me about your father."

"You knew; you didn't need him to tell you." Because Laxus had known, too. There wasn't much skill required in making the connection when his father was lying on his bed, shivering and sweating and missing work, not eating and vomiting when he tried. Too much coke. Too little care.

"And then Gildarts confirmed it and gave me the ammunition to send Ivan on his way and keep him that way."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some people have a persuasive personality."

And just like that, the conversation was in a realm Laxus found he was very, very uncomfortable in. He wanted to ask his grandfather for clarification about as much as he wanted a rusty nail through the foot. They settled into silence with only the sound of their feet to fill the quiet until an old Chevelle drove by and caught Laxus' eye. _That_ gave him an idea for a much safer line of questions. "Did my car make it back here yesterday?"

Makarov grunted. "It's in the garage with the Jeep."

"How bad was it?" Yesterday was a blur.

"Your ass made a good indentation. It'll take some time to get it out."

Laxus heaved a sigh. "Bastard." He was actually looking forward to taking Mira to see her brother; that way, he could look at Elfman again and tear him apart some for the abuse he'd given his car.

"It's only a thing," Makarov said like he was some kind of sage.

"You wouldn't be saying that if it was your dirty mags wrecked," Laxus mumbled. Which reminded him. "Did you take your heart medication?"

When his grandfather was about to tell a lie, his left brow always twitched in and his nose flared. Laxus looked for the tells and wasn't disappointed when Makarov said, "Yes."

"I see where my old man got his duplicity from," Laxus groused.

Makarov's bushy top lip came out. "I resent that."

"Remember, Gramps, you'll see your own faults in your son and be a better person for it." Or some fucking bullshit.

"That's not what I said."

"Whatever." Laxus crossed into the driveway and mounted the steps. He _still_ felt like there were eyes on him. No matter how hard he looked, he could never find his spy. He was digging his keys out of his pocket when he realized that his grandfather's forgetfulness had struck again. "If you're going to go out, old man, which Iobject to, by the way," just so they were clear, "Lock the fucking door." He said it for his grandfather's benefit, hoping if he repeated things like this, it would _stick_. He wasn't sure how much his grandfather could control, but he didn't want to have to put Makarov in an old age home.

It seemed like with every passing day that became in inevitability.

Makarov didn't apologize, he did point his red-tinted face toward the ground, though, ashamed.

Laxus never had time for apologies and thus never learned how to do it properly. He pushed open the door, entered the house and let the old man wallow in the indignity. The only upside was when he gave his grandfather his heart medication, it was taken without complaint. That small victory felt hollow.

Laxus left his grandfather sitting at the worn kitchen table and went to the washroom where he shaved the days' old scruff from his face and showered. From there he brought his exhausted body back to his bedroom and flopped face first down on his bed. Before he closed his eyes, he set an alarm for nine thirty. That would give him a couple hours sleep before he picked up Jellal. It wasn't enough, but it would have to do.

* * *

Jellal's apartment looked exactly as it always did: a little messy, A lot untidy, and full of dog. Beau raced to the door as soon as she heard it open and yodeled wildly. Jellal deposited his keys on the key hook and tried to pet her but she was spinning too much, both excited and happy to see him. Looking at her like this, Jellal was reminded why, against reason, he kept her when he found her at that drug house, and why, though he complained and joked and griped and felt terrible on weeks like these where he was working more than he wasn't, he'd never actually give her up.

No one could love as unconditionally as a canine.

When she'd let him, he took her for a walk before coming back inside and taking a shower. Though his schedule was all fucked up, by the time Jellal was done everything he thought he should do, (he skipped right over the need to eat, his stomach was knotted and had been since that hydroponics door was opened) he was so exhausted he considered telling Laxus not to bother coming by. The furthest he went to actually carry out those plans was locking his door. Flipping the deadbolt came without much conviction. Laxus had a key, and even if he _didn't_ , Jellal knew that he would unlock the door himself. Now, convincing his partner to drink at the apartment instead? That was totally on his radar. Laxus would never go for it.

After falling into bed, Jellal thought of clothes appropriate for _Be Frank's._ If it wasn't running gear and it wasn't suits, did he _have_ anything? He climbed up. Jellal forgot about clothes and flipped to his side and pulled the dog in tightly. She smelled sort of like Erza but mostly like Beau. Like dog. It wasn't a bad smell—for a dog owner. Jellal figured that his nose was broken because it was a scent he missed.

His eyes closed and he wondered if he remembered to set his alarm. Then he wondered if he cared. Despite his messed up sleeping schedule, despite all the caffeine in his veins, he was asleep in moments.

* * *

Erza moved over Somnium's balcony like a ghost moved through graves, listlessly, slowly, without much purpose. Doors opened and closed. Laughter belled and furled. Smoke filled the air and lifted high, just like her mother's voice lifting tirelessly from the stage. Her mother wasn't actually human, needing rest and quiet, she thrived off the mindless praise of her guests and would for hours to come.

Erza wasn't put together with the same mortar. She needed to breathe and she needed to be _numb_ so badly.

Her feet brought her to the door marred with a white flower. She didn't know if Mira had guests and really, did she care? Wasn't she granted some concessions? It was with that in mind that she tapped on the door and entered without waiting for an invitation.

Mira was on the bed in purple, looking like a flower cresting before wilt. The most vibrant she'd be in her life. Her hair was a fan, her fingers were knitted through it, nails painted black. Mira was a girl that lived in black and purple, the colours belonged to her as much as she belonged to them. _Like a bruise_. Erza wondered if Kyouka was right and Zeref would've tried to strangle her or if he'd used a bullet or a knife.

It wasn't worth thinking about. Too dark, too easily imagined.

Mira sat up some and tried a limp smile. "Hey."

Erza blurted, "Don't see Zeref again. And keep the knife on you. He came into Somnium tonight and said he wanted to hurt you."

Mira's lip got pinched between her teeth. "I don't need the knife."

She'd always been stubborn but this was just _dumb._ "Mira—"

"No, Erza." She looked around the room before sitting up more and reaching for the nightstand beside the bed. When the drawer opened, Erza saw her big secret and understood. The gun didn't look out of place in Somnium. "It's the one I took from Lisanna."

"Do you know how to shoot it?"

Her hesitation was clarification. Erza took the gun from its home and, as it was in her hand, imagined a proper target and pulling the trigger again. Not missing this time. Would she feel the same satisfaction killing someone _again_ as she had the _first_ time she'd done it? She felt like she was always trying to recreate that feeling while simultaneously trying to bury it.

"It's like this." Erza sat on the bed and removed the magazine. Brass glinted in the overhead light. She checked the slide, too, and saw that there was a cartridge in the firing chamber. She knocked it out. In her memory, Jellal's hands moved with hers, showing her how to check to see if it was loaded. It was clumsy doing it herself. When she'd killed her husband, she didn't bother checking to see if Jellal kept bullets in his service pistol, she'd just _assumed._ "If there's a bullet in there, that means it's ready to fire." She thrust the magazine back in place. It clicked satisfyingly.

Next, she clasped it with both hands, finger down the side guard (though she kept thinking about the trigger—the more she thought about it, the more pleasantly nervous she became,) and extended her arms. It was heavier than the Pico. More clunky. When it fired, there would be a lot of kickback. She explained that aloud, too, finishing with, "You'll need to pull the slide back to put a round in the chamber. When you're ready to pull the trigger, keep your fingers away from the slide and the hammer. Make sure the safety is off." She checked and it was on. She kept it that way, trusting herself even less today than she did yesterday. Was killing addicting? Would she want to hurt someone that didn't deserve it next time?

_No. Yes._ She couldn't answer _definitively_ and that scared her.

She gave the gun up to Mira and was happy to do so. "You show me now."

Mira studied her as she always did when Erza did something she thought was slightly crazy or violent. Fear and lust. Mira was bad for her, embracing and loving all of her viciousness. She tried to kiss Erza with the gun still in her hand.

Erza leaned out of range. "Show me first." First, because she hated that part of herself but _also_ wanted it celebrated.

Mira's recreation of the steps between an inert gun and one ready to kill needed a bit of guidance. Erza went through it with her twice more before finally telling Mira to put the gun aside. Back it went into the drawer, and back Mira came for Erza. This time when her mouth sought hers, Erza turned her head just slightly not because she didn't _want_ to be kissed but because she wanted to be kissed too much and by the _wrong person_. Mira took the slight in stride and moved from her cheek to her ear and down to her neck.

"When is your first customer coming?" Erza asked.

"Soon, I think," Mira said into her shoulder. "Are you working?"

"Not tonight." Tonight, if it wasn't Mira and it wasn't Jellal, she didn't want to be touched.

_God._ She didn't _want_ to want to be touched by him. And she wanted it so badly.

Mira moved behind her and worked on getting Erza's dress low. In her touch was apology, on her lips was thanks. "I don't know what I would have done if you didn't show up at the hospital today. I didn't have anything figured out. Now I have a place for Lisanna and a job."

"I don't want to talk about that." Not then, not when she was still remembering the weight of the gun in her hand, how fear had stepped aside and she'd stood without much thought and fired, not with a gun _still so close._

"Alright." Erza's breasts filled Mira's hands. It felt good, but Erza's mind was divided so many ways. Jellal. Violence. Weapons. She pulled from Mira's grasp and opened the drawer again. She purposefully looked _away_ from the gun and blindly reached for the pipe she thought _should_ be in there. All of Somnium's rooms were stocked always, with a multitude of poisons. She found the marijuana first and was glad, anything stronger and she was afraid to take it, though she thought she _would_ just to numb herself.

Mira's ministrations slowed when she saw the drugs. They always did. Erza did what _she_ always did, too, and packed the bowl without much care and lit it. If Mira really didn't want her to do it, she would protest and if she protested, then Erza would take it somewhere else. "What are you doing tonight? After you finish."

Mira said, "Laxus is taking me to see my brother after he arrested him, isn't that nice?" There was no hiding that sarcasm.

Erza didn't know what to say. "Everyone is doing the best they can."

Mira's look went sullen. "I know. He's kind of nice. And kind of not."

"I thought you liked that?"

The answer was _yes._ Mira changed the subject and Erza let her, more than understanding the want to _not_ speak about _any_ detective in the MPD."Is Lisanna really going to be okay here?"

"Last I saw, she was fitting right in," Erza said dryly. She trusted Lisanna with a gun even _less_ than she trusted herself. "Seems like Gildarts and Angel are taking care of her."

Mira went from sullen to fierce in a blink. "Gildarts?"

It was a shame she was more worried about him than Angel; Angel was the eater of innocence. Not that Erza thought Lisanna had much left. "He's not interested in her, not like that." At least, she didn't _think_ so. Gildarts was a dog, yeah, but as far as Erza knew, he'd only been sniffing around one tail for the last few years and it seemed the more the Matriarch denied him, the more he wanted her. Erza considered telling him her mother was interested only in the fairer sex since her late husband met an unfortunate and planned end but didn't want to ruin things for her. If his loyalty was purchased because he dreamed that one day she'd let him put her on her back… well, that was his prerogative. "Natsu is going to see her tomorrow."

Mira's breath expelled. "He is?"

"I saw him downstairs earlier; he was here when Zeref was. He agreed to come."

Mira looked both horrified and relieved. "What if he tells her about…"

"Natsu isn't going to tell his ex-fiancé how he fucked her sister, Mira, don't worry." Tact was elusive and Mira was pale. "I don't think he's going to mess things up like that," Erza said more gently.

Mira closed her eyes and just _absorbed_ her situation. "Fuck. What a mess."

Yeah. "Want some?" She hadn't offered Mira a toke since they'd _first_ started working together. Her disinterest had been _clear_ then. Now, however, Mira hesitated. Erza said, "It helps me relax." Relax, run. Whatever.

"I was always afraid. After Lisanna," Mira muttered. "I didn't want anyone doing to me what they did to her."

Pot and K were _very_ different. Fear was fear and never changed. "You don't have to be afraid here." Not in Somnium. It had always been a safe house, even when everything in her life was imploding. "No one will hurt you." As long as Zeref stayed away and Kyouka kept to herself. Erza was almost sure she wouldn't try anything.

She took an inhale off her pipe and leaned toward Mira, making her intentions clear but not pushing _beyond_ that. If Mira wanted some, she could do the rest of the work. Mira's breath came out in a short gust and then she was pressing her mouth to Erza's.


	27. Chapter 27

The bathroom mirror had been cleaned recently, the streaks that were left behind by Laxus wiping away the condensation after his showers for weeks, gone. He brushed his teeth, looking up at himself in that clean mirror and thought he looked like his father. Through the eyes and his chin mostly, though he'd inherited his father's sharp nose, too. He could swerve away from Narcotics and denounce his old man and pretend like he didn't exist but there was only so much he could escape from. Even without the striking family resemblance, Ivan Dreyar had made sure Laxus could never truly be free of him, all he had to do was look at the scar over his eye or the bullet wound on his shoulder. He would always carry reminders.

Makarov shuffled by the open door. "Getting ready for a date with that Fernandez boy?" He was _less_ perturbed that Laxus had gotten kicked off the case than Laxus was. Perhaps he thought it'd be safer.

"Jellal hasn't been a 'boy' in a long time, old man," Laxus told him.

"You'll always be boys to me." Makarov leaned back against the far wall, beneath a family portrait that was taken long, long ago, outside the church on Ivan's wedding day. There were no scars and no hollow eyes. "That girl was prettier than him. Why don't you spend some time with her?"

Laxus said absently, "I'm seeing her later."

"Are you bringing her back here?" There was a spark in his grandfather's eyes.

"I don't have the patience to deal with the sexual harassment charge she'll lodge on you if I do."

Makarov's mustache came out as a form of objection. "I don't know what kind of man you think I am."

"An old dirty one." Laxus smoothed his hair back from his forehead and pulled on the white T-shirt he'd dug out of his drawer. "I have that in writing. That text you sent me the other day? The eggplant and—"

Makarov waved him off. "That was Wendy."

"I'm sure," Laxus said dryly.

"Does this girl like you?" Makarov asked.

"Dunno. I arrested her brother; I'm inclined to think she hates me." More than a little.

Makarov's brows went up. "Try the _L'Homme Ultime_. She won't be able to hate you for long."

It was his father's favourite. There was only one bottle in the house that Laxus was aware of and it was the same one that had belonged to his father before life came crashing down. "Those cologne commercials are bullshit you know? Women won't actually trip over themselves because you smell like fermented beaver ass." When Laxus found out just what cologne was made of he'd made a conscientious effort to stop wearing it. That and the new scent policy at the station prohibited it. It didn't stop some people.

"Well, it certainly couldn't _hinder_ your chances. That was what I wore when your granny fell in love with me." He came from the wall and pushed Laxus away from the vanity. From its depths, he pulled out the red and gold bottle of cologne. It found a new home on the counter and Makarov tried to go on his way.

"Hang on," Laxus called him back. It was heart wrenching to accurately read that look in his grandfather's eyes—the old man thought he was going to say something else about Mira, maybe ask for some advice, and he was glad for it. Laxus burned sentiment and regret to the ground and said harshly, "You can't go out on your own anymore, especially when you don't lock the door. I mean it," he said when Makarov opened his mouth in objection. "I don't like saying it, but if you don't listen to me this time, the next step is a home."

The red cheeks were back. "I didn't forget to lock the door, boy." Laxus didn't believe him for a second and his grandfather saw that. Defensively, Makarov added, "I just couldn't find my keys."

Now _that_ Laxus could believe. " _Your_ keys are still missing from the _last_ time you lost them, Gramps. I gave you mine until yours showed, remember? So what you're saying is you lost _my_ spare keys."

The redness only got worse as Makarov realized that the hole he was trying to scrabble out of was only getting deeper. He stammered.

"Where was the last place you had them?"

"If I knew, they wouldn't be lost."

Laxus blew a fringe of hair off his forehead that wouldn't stay slicked back. "My spare station keys are on that key ring. Captain's going to _kill_ me." Here he was bitching to Mira about losing her key for the Barrel. _Yours were lost_ for _you._

It still wasn't acceptable.

"They're around the house somewhere. They have to be because between you and Porlyusica, I can never get out of this prison." Makarov had rallied his dignity again.

"Holy fuck."

"Don't swear at me."

Laxus had something much worse primed. He trimmed it up quick with a look at his grandfather's face. "You know what? We'll look for them tomorrow."

Makarov turned from him without a response. Laxus didn't chase him out into the hallway.

* * *

The less Laxus had to complain about the less he would complain—that was the theory, anyway, as Jellal pulled on a black long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Simple. Clean. No holes, no paint stains. He looked presentable enough. And he was comfortable.

In his entryway, he dug a pair of high top sneakers from the closet and was just doing them up when his door sounded. Jellal looked over his shoulder to the clock on the stove. It was nine fifty-nine. Laxus was early for once in his life. Pity. Jellal was going to give it another five minutes and then say fuck it, get his personal pistol from the box above the closet and stuff it in his belt—he was dressed anyway, right? He shouldn't waste the effort it took to get this far. To hell with his job and to hell with protocol. To hell with Laxus and Erza throwing around what _Tante_ Alba would want—he wanted to do what he wanted and that was to destroy the Cardinal.

That was the erratic part of him talking—the part that had stopped to pick up Erza that first night, and the part that had covered up a murder for her. It wasn't the part that held the reins all the time. Jellal took in a deep, deep breath and stood. He didn't go for his pistol; he went for the door and hesitated long enough to check through the peep hole, suspicious all the time now. His partner was there, scarred face, slicked back hair and in a white T-shirt, his favourite leather jacket and a pair of jeans. There were bruises beneath Laxus' eyes. That was stress; Jellal had been working with Laxus long enough to know when life's strain chewed at his ends.

_Why are we doing this again,_ Jellal wondered as he pulled open the door. _Right. So I don't spend the next twelve hours trying to cover up another murder._ Beau was oblivious to his dark thoughts as she pushed past him and greeted Laxus as she always did, tail wagging, tongue lolling, an excited yip piercing the air. Laxus greeted her as he always did, too, complaining about hair but bending to pet her vigorously. He produced a baggy with beef jerky and handed her the hunk. "From Wendy," he said. Jellal stopped believing that old tale long ago. Laxus liked her.

"Ready?" Laxus asked.

Not at all. "Are you buying?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" Laxus stood and swiped hair from his pants. It multiplied.

With no more time to make excuses and no other options, Jellal grabbed his keys off key hook, told Beau to be good, and left his apartment—and his gun—behind.

* * *

_Be Frank's_ was full almost to capacity. There was a hockey game on the flat screen over the bar and the tables were full of off-duty police officers, lawyers, and anyone that worked on Sanders Drive, where the cop shop, court offices and law firms made their homes. The din was deafening, the lights were low, the music barely heard over the sounds of laughter, unless you were in the washroom, and then it was so loud, you could barely hear yourself think.

Alone at the table while Laxus bullied his way to the bar, Jellal pushed around his beer listlessly. It was his third, paired with a plate of sweet potato fries that he'd only picked at. He still had no taste for food and barely had any for beer, though he couldn't deny that the alcohol was acting like a balm. It helped him swallow the large and bitter pill he'd been chewing on since walking into Ultear's office (or maybe it had ended up in his mouth before that... when they'd opened that door beneath the confessional?).

A woman with hair as black as jet put herself down in the chair across from Jellal, pulling him from his thoughts. "Hi." She had a smile that was more hard than soft—forced if Jellal was any judge. Beneath it, her teeth were as white as the low-cut lace-trim dress she wore, and straight.

"Hi."

She seemed not quite sure how to do what she wanted to do next. She leaned in and took one of his fries without asking, and asked in a truncated way, "Are you looking for someone tonight?"

It didn't take long for Jellal to figure out what she was suggesting. He said an automatic, "Freelance prostitution is illegal."

She said plainly, "I know plenty of cops that get off on that."

Jellal wasn't surprised that she knew he was a cop—it was a good bet, being in _Be Frank's_. And, of course, with the Cardinal case, his name had been thrown around the newspapers more than once, along with a picture or two. "No, thank you."

"My rates are good."

Jellal looked her over. Her dress was too nice, even for a prostitute that made good money. Her hair was primped and curled, and her makeup looked like she had an artist come in and do it that evening. She looked like a prostitute just about as much as he did. His immediate thought was maybe she was a journalist trying to get the dirt on all the dirty cops in the city. That didn't make much sense either, but fit better than _whore_. "No, thanks."

"You won't regret it."

He was sure he would. Someway. Somehow. "Move on before I turn you in."

Fury flitted across her face, there in an instant, gone in a flash. There was no more coercing. She dropped her half-eaten fry back to the plate and stood. She was graceful when she walked away, skilled in twitching in her high heels. She'd spent a lot of time in them and knew how to make them look good on her.

Laxus appeared back at the table with six shot glasses on a tray, two beers, and bathing in a cloud of _L'homme Ultime_ that Jellal didn't think he owned.

"Are you trying to get me wrecked?" Jellal asked, eyeing the shots.

"Three shots aren't going to kill you."

No. That would be the ones he had _after_ , when he thought it was a good idea because he'd drunk three now. "How did you even convince the bartender to give you all that?"

Laxus' brow quirked. "My winning smile?" His tone was just a little too forced. Jellal looked around his partner to the bar. There was a man standing behind its whisky-soaked top and he was absolutely looking over in a way only the dumb would misinterpret.

Jellal shook his head. "Do you understand what happened there?"

"No. Now shut up and tell me, what did Kagura Mikazuchi want?"

Jellal forgot about razzing Laxus. "Mikazuchi. Like, Simon Mikazuchi?"

"One in the same."

"Are you sure?" Jellal asked.

Laxus looked over Jellal's head and searched the bar. "Can't see her now but I never forget a face. Especially one like that. It was her."

Jellal didn't bother with any frills. "She tried to proposition me."

Laxus almost spat out the mouthful of beer he'd taken. "She _what?_ "

"Wanted me to pay her for sex," Jellal clarified.

"I _know_ what that means. Why the fuck…?"

Yeah. Why in the _fuck_. "I dunno."

"Crazy fucking world. Maybe she's trying to piss off daddy?" Laxus mused.

"Maybe. He's used the Barrel before. I remember his name from the list."

"And her brother, eh?"

"Yeah. When we talked to Simon, he said his sister hated that he was with Laura Stone. I don't think Miss Mikazuchi suddenly filled Laura's position at _Daisy's._ Maybe she's trying to make a point _._ " _And maybe she has been from the start._ Jellal searched the room for her again. It was so crowded that like Laxus, he couldn't see her in the shifting mass of bodies. "We should look for her, ask her some questions."

"Questions?"

"About the case, keep up," Jellal said exasperatedly. "She didn't just wake up this morning and decide she wanted to be an escort."

Laxus hesitated. "Not only are those pretty loose grounds to question her, nothing we ask her now is going to mean shit, man. We're done, remember?"

"What if she—"

Laxus cut in. " _I'll_ tell the captain to tell IA she's being weird because _you're_ supposed to be _relaxing_." He pulled out his phone and sent off a text. When that was done, he put a shot glass in Jellal's hand, one in his own, and knocked them together. Jellal watched Laxus throw his back.

"Drink," Laxus said when he'd swallowed. "Forget about this shit for now."

"Can't we just—"

"Drink," Laxus insisted.

Jellal sighed and drank. Tequila, like Erza, was the harbinger of strife to his life. It went down smooth as fuck. He took the lime Laxus offered, and the next shot glass. The next two were just as easy to drink as the first. Chased with beer, and he was feeling plenty dizzy. Laxus got another round.

* * *

Erza wiped Mira's lipstick from her mouth as she descended Somnium's stairs. The place was electric now, the seats full, the entertainment belting out another song, this one _Goodnight Moon_ by Shivaree. It was better suited to her voice, low and smoky. Erza caught her eye and earned herself a smile. Her mother _loved_ seeing her in Somnium. Which was reason enough to leave.

Angel sat at the bar. Erza brought herself to her side and leaned against the countertop casually. Her confidence was all an act, years had gone past and Erza was unused to having people jump at her whim. Angel's blue eyes came her way and her painted black mouth twitched. " _Yes_?"

"I need a car," Erza said.

"A car."

"To take me out."

"And?"

"And?"

Angel propped her elbows on the bar and swirled her gin and tonic around. "Where is this car taking you, Erza?"

Erza felt filthy saying, "I'm going to see Jellal," like that was something they just _did_. Casually. Naturally.

"The detective."

"Yes."

"Kyouka doesn't want him around you know?" Angel said.

Despite herself and her wanting of a blasé attitude, Erza said too curiosity, "She doesn't?"

"No. She says he knows too much. She wouldn't say about what, though. Maybe you could fill me in on that?"

"I wouldn't know," Erza said. She must have been a good liar because Angel turned her face away in disgust and swallowed a huge mouthful of her drink. "She says you should stay away from him, Erza, and if she thinks so, maybe she's right."

"Duly noted."

"And ignored."

"I've always done my own thing, you know that, Angel."

Angel finished her cocktail and forcibly put her glass down on the countertop. "I don't understand this feud you and _Tante_ Kyouka have or why you come back if you're so bent about her."

Erza shrugged. "Convenient."

"Unbelievable," Angel said just as easily. "Next time I ask, Erza, I expect a better story than that. If you're going to lie, at least make it believable."

Erza supposed she wasn't as good as she thought she was. "Angel?"

"What?"

"Can you keep an eye on Mira while I'm gone?" Erza asked. "I'm not sure how many people Kyouka plans on having her see tonight but with Acnologia and Zeref on her…"

"I'll make sure I know who goes to her room."

It wasn't a promise to keep her safe. It wasn't a promise to _not_ either, though. Which was as good as saying _'yes.'_ "Thanks."

Angel didn't look too pleased about it. "I don't get why _Tante_ Kyouka's risking a war with Zeref and Acnologia just to keep this girl safe. If you ask me, the price of keeping the peace is paid in red sometimes."

"Good thing no one's asking you," Erza said, abruptly cold.

Angel didn't apologize. "I'll get you that car." What she really meant was that she'd check with Kyouka and if it was okay, Erza could leave. "Wait here." She dropped her empty glass to the countertop and twitched out of her seat. She folded seamlessly into the crowd. Erza bent her head back and watched a man enter Mira's room. It wasn't anyone she recognized. There were _lots_ of people she didn't recognize. _You shouldn't be leaving_.

Her phone hummed in her bag. Erza took it out and saw a text from Jellal. It said no words but there was a picture of a shopping cart. She felt a smile creep up on her as she remembered taking him to the building, taking off her shoes and climbing into the cart. Being pushed around, the smell of old oil and industrial in her nose.

_I want that again._

And again and again.

Somnium was _safe_ , so she figured she didn't have to feel badly about leaving.

_And Mira has a gun._ And she knew how to use it. And now she _understood_ how dangerous people could be.

Angel appeared at the other end of the room again and nodded to Erza before ducking outside. The car wouldn't be there yet but Erza stood, needing to move before she changed her mind and stayed. She approached the front entrance while she typed, _where are you_?

_Be Frank's._

The cop hole, and Mira's favourite place to be when she wasn't working. _Used to be, anyway_. Erza could pinpoint the exact time her and Mira's lives had taken a giant nose dive. The night she'd beaten Dan Andrews unconscious and called the police about it.

"Should have just let him wake up and try to press charges," she murmured and came outside. Things would have been easier.

The moon hung high in the sky, a pearl. The storm had finally cleared. Now the night was cold and Erza was regretting her dress of choice. Or at least the decision to walk out of Somnium without a jacket. She wasn't high enough anymore _not_ to care. She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered while she debated upon going back inside. It was so smoky in there, though, and loud, and men stared at her because they thought she should be upstairs or wished she was.

Erza thought she was alone until well-made wool wrapped around her shoulders. His voice came to her ear, calm and smooth and purposeful. "It's too cold outside for a _piccola regina_ to be without a coat."

Erza turned and nearly dropped the jacket when she saw its owner. "Acnologia." Behind him were two men, both tall and wide, both with jackets that fit oddly around the guns they carried. Erza kept her eye on them but knew Acnologia was the true wildcard. Nothing happened without his say so.

"You'd catch your death, and then who would inherit your mother's work?" His voice lilted around such menacing words.

Wool dug into Erza's fingers. She half wanted to tear the jacket from her shoulders, get the smell of mint and tobacco from her nose. She mostly found that she was stunned into immobility. "My mother's—"

"I know all about the lie," he said. "Don't insult me by lying more."

Voices rose from inside Somnium's walls. Erza stood taller, bolstered by the sound. "You're not welcome in Somnium." She shrugged off his coat to make a point and dropped it to the ground between them. Acnologia's face twitched; that was the only thing that let Erza know that she annoyed him.

"No. I would think not, not while my death is being planned in its walls. I'm not here for anything social, though. Please, pass a message _a tua madre_ , Erza. Tell her that as long as she harbours the Strauss' and plans my demise with Zeref, she is engraving her own tombstone. A dog that bites the hand that feeds it is a dog that is put down."

_This_ time, Erza heard footsteps before she saw her next visitor. Kyouka came out of the dark like a skeleton from a closet, her face ghastly in the wan light, her bones looking too delicate and moving too lithely to be real. "Your words are duly noted, Acnologia, however, Erza is correct, you are not welcome in Somnium, even in its parking lot."

"Do you forget who gifted to you this parking lot?" Acnologia asked.

"It was _purchased,_ Acnologia. You decided then that it wasn't a good venture for you anymore. You were too wealthy; you didn't need a little hovel like Somnium to supplement your business."

Acnologia snorted. "I grow tired of these games, Kyouka."

Kyouka's face got taut; Erza could see it in the headlights of the Lincoln Town Car that pulled up to the curb. The door opened and Yukino stepped out. She sized up the situation quickly and had her hand on the gun on her hip. " _Tante_ —"

"It's fine, Yukino. Acnologia was just leaving," Kyouka said authoritatively. To Erza she said, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Erza. You'll have people watching you so there is no need to be afraid."

Erza bristled for no other reason than she _could._ She didn't like Kyouka. _No part_ of her liked Kyouka, even when she was seemingly doing her solids and being reassuring. "I'm not afraid."

"Of course not. Why would you be with Somnium's might at your back? None of us have anything to fear from Magnolia's has-beens." Kyouka waved her on. "Leave."

Acnologia looked the right amount of affronted and said something insulting to her in his native tongue. The men at his side tensed. Erza did, too. Angel came around the side of the building, a cigarette in one hand, a gun in the other. She lingered just outside Somnium's door, well within shooting range if she was told. Movement brought Erza's eyes northward, and she caught sight of Gildarts' form in one of the upper windows. How long had he known Acnologia lingered? Long enough to get into positon and watch. His rifle's muzzle caught the moonlight.

Acnologia saw, too, and said lowly, " _Stare in piedi verso il basso, mem_. Now is not the time to fight."

"Now that you're right about." Kyouka didn't look tense at all. "Get in the car, Erza, and enjoy your evening. You're safe, Miss Strauss is safe."

Erza breathed out and moved toward the car. Acnologia watched her. He was unsettling in the same way Mister Zero was. He made her skin _crawl._

No one shot her as she opened the car's back door. No one stopped her sliding into the seat. Yukino got in after her. The car moved smoothly into drive. Erza watched from the back window as Kyouka stepped in close to Acnologia and said something into his ear.

* * *

"Did the Captain get back to you?" Jellal's voice was more slurred than he thought he would have liked. The entire night had been a battle of _cut it out, get the fuck up and find Kagura or go hunt down Tores and get your answers_ , and _just do what your Captain tells you and take a couple days. Let IA handle things._

He was a control freak. He hated this sense of _freefalling_ he had without his case and his killer. It was _hard_ to step back. After all, someone else was going to fuck up the case or they wouldn't do what they needed to if and when they found out the truth.

"No. Now stop thinking so much and drink your beer."

"If I finish this beer, you're going to be pulling me out of the gutter."

"Good."

_Not_ good. "Just check your phone," Jellal told him.

Laxus did the opposite and pressed and held the power button up top until the screen turned black. "No."

"Laxus—"

"Drink your fucking beer, Fernandez."

Jellal grabbed it up and drank it back. When it was done, he slammed the glass down on the table again and said, "Turn your phone on and check it."

Laxus had no answer for him as he grabbed the empty glass and stood. Jellal watched his partner push through the crowd around the bar and thought about his grand escape. He was even more torn than before, and really too drunk to think clearly about it. Without a solid course of action, he looked away from where Laxus submerged into the crowd and started looking again for Kagura, as he had been covertly for the last hour and a half. His only conclusion was that she'd left. Which was unfortunate.

Above the men's washroom was a TV that had been playing the tail end of a hockey game. It cut away for some breaking news. Jellal squinted to see and had a hard time. It looked like a crime scene on screen, complete with police CAUTION tape, strobing cruiser lights, paramedics. Beyond the barrier they'd erected was a house that was rich and well kept, made of whitewashed stone and adorned with windows that reflected back the lights at the camera. A reporter was on screen, talking hurriedly into the microphone. Jellal, for the life of him, couldn't hear what she was saying.

A bolt of red so pure, it looked unnatural caught his attention and he turned from the mess on screen to watch Erza Scarlet approach. Laxus' arm was around her shoulder and there was a tray of tequila shots in her hand. She smiled at Jellal and his head emptied. When she came to sit down, she pulled her chair so close, she might as well have been in his lap. She brought a shot of tequila to his mouth in greeting and Jellal was so, so lost.

* * *

Mira's phone buzzed. She stopped refreshing her makeup and picked it up from the nightstand. She almost dropped it again, seeing Elfman's name come through on the screen.

_Meet me at Kardia Cathedral?_

Mira's immediate response was confusion. _How? I thought you were in jail?_

_They released me._

_How?_

_Just meet me, Mira. I'll explain everything. Hurry up. I need to talk to you, it's really important._

The suspicion still hadn't disappeared. She went back on her phone screen and texted Laxus, _Did you know they let my brother out?_

She waited and waited for him to deny her. Five minutes passed. Her phone vibrated. Not Laxus but Elfman again. _You'll come?_

She had no confirmation; she still got to her feet, though, and let them take her out of her room in search of someone that could help. Mira didn't have very far to go, almost immediately when she opened her door, she saw _Tante_ Kyouka standing two rooms down, speaking to a man in a low voice. The woman looked over, saw Mira, and gave her a fleeting smile. "I was just coming to see you. That was your last guest for the night, Mira."

She'd only seen two people. Mira wasn't going to complain, she was tired and impatient. "Thank you."

Kyouka said goodnight to the man she was speaking to and started toward the stairs. Mira called her back. " _Tante."_

"Yes?" Kyouka asked over her shoulder.

Mira felt like she was overstepping her bounds by a lot. She _needed_ to, though, and wouldn't stop. If Kyouka was mad… then she was mad. "I—I was wondering if there was anyone to come with me. My brother asked if I could meet him."

"I thought your brother was in prison?" Kyouka asked.

"I thought so, too. And maybe he still is. I don't know," Mira admitted. "But I got a text from his phone."

"Strange."

"If it _was_ him, he said it was important."

"Sounds like a ploy to get you out of Somnium's protection."

"Which is why I wanted someone to come with me."

Kyouka leaned back against the railing and spent some time thinking. "He was close to Acnologia, correct?"

"I don't know if _close_ is a good term," Mira hedged. "He did some work for him."

"Could be Elfman Strauss is useful to Somnium. Very well, I'll send my personal escort with you. Wait out front, I'll get her to bring the car."

Relief felt cool and refreshing. "Thank you, _Tante_."

"You're welcome," Kyouka said. Her superior tone couldn't be misinterpreted. Mira didn't care. She had protection and she was going to see Elfman. She waited for Kyouka to finish descending the stairs before heading back into her room. She changed into a pair of tights and a tunic and pulled her hair high on her head. A pair of flats went on her still aching feet. Before she left, she grabbed her phone and shoved it in her purse. She knew what she had to grab next but felt herself lag. _Just do it. You told Erza you_ would _._

Erza, who held a gun more comfortably than Mira imagined she _should_. She was a source of wonder and mystique. And fear. Mira opened the bedside drawer and took out the weapon with fingers that shook remembering when Erza had let her put the gun aside and touch her instead.

_Maybe Laxus will let me do the same._

Maybe.

Mira closed the top of her purse and left. Downstairs, there was no one to look her way. The stage was empty and the lights were dim. The bar was totally abandoned. Only a woman with blue hair lingered and that was to clean up the tables. There was a young girl attached to her leg as she worked. Both of them paused and followed Mira's progress from Somnium's walls. Mira didn't have a smile for either one of them, she was too strained to summon one.

Spring was playing coy tonight, the air cool on Mira's skin. She shivered in her tunic and waited out front like Kyouka had told her. It didn't take much time to be washed in the glow of headlights. Mira didn't recognize the car but that wasn't a surprise. It pulled up to the curb and Mira opened the door and got in.

The seats beneath her were leather and the car smelled like perfume. There was a woman behind the wheel with long dark hair that glowed by the light of the dash. Mira couldn't see her face; it was too dark.

"Where are we going?" The woman's voice was husky and rough.

"Kardia Cathedral," Mira said. She didn't know what to expect when she arrived at the church, she'd heard on the local news station that it had been gutted for the investigation into the Cardinal case. She'd meant to ask Laxus about it but with everything that had been going on…

The car slipped into gear and rolled away from the curb. Mira sat in silence and watched Somnium until it got small. Road glided by, illuminated by the moon and by the headlights. The driver never said a word, even when Mira ventured to ask her name. Silence, though originally peaceful, was now only adding to her discomfort.

"Have you worked with _Tante_ Kyouka long?"

Dark eyes flicked up and looked in the mirror then faced forward again. No words were exchanged. Mira plucked at the hem of her shirt. "It's cold back here."

The heat came on. Mira settled back and tried to think of something interesting to say. She didn't have _anything_ so she pulled out her phone and scrolled through several social media sites. It was the same old. Her high school friends had kids, some of them were swimming through family drama, complaining about their layabout exes, others were 'living the dream', taking pictures oozing with syrupy happiness that was probably fake.

Mira wasn't interested in it. She wanted to know who was sneaking off to fuck when they thought their significant other wasn't looking, she wanted to know who had been dipping into the alcohol one too many nights a week, she wanted to know the dark secrets, the ones barely anyone dared to utter unless the lights were turned low and they were in the presence of someone they thought they could trust.

Mira had often been that ear. Never in her life had she passed on her mother's favourite saying, ' _Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead._ ' She _wanted_ to know.

Tires slowing dragged her out of her phone and she had to face reality again. The car swung into the empty church parking lot. The last time Mira had been there was for Lucy Heartfilia's funeral. It looked like so much _less_ now. Less beautiful. Less whole. Less holy. It was a great, wooden corpse, its support beams bones barred to the late night sky.

The car ground to a stop and Mira opened the door and left it that way while she stepped out. Potholes had grown in the gravel driveway and had filled with rainwater; she was careful to avoid them. "Elfman?" Mira did a circle, searching the parking lot for Elfman's signature head of hair. "I'm here like you asked. It's just me and one of _Tante_ Kyouka's guards. You can come out. You're safe." It was when her back was to the car that she heard the transmission slip through its gears and the engine rev high.

Mira's heart leapt into her throat as she realized what was happening. "Wait!" The door was in her hands and slipped out again when the car pulled out of range. One of her nails bent back painfully, tearing at the quick. "Wait!" Water washed into her shoe, gifted to her by the pothole she'd stepped in.

"Wait!" Mira ran and ran and didn't catch the car. Stones bit into her legs as the car peeled out of the parking lot, taillights blurring. It swerved hard left onto the road and the rear passenger's door slammed closed.

" _Fuck!_ Come back!"

The car crested the hill and then it was out of sight and she was alone in the dark with only her pounding heart sounding in her ears.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"Fuck."

_Breathe._

Mira looked around the parking lot and clutched her elbows. All she could see was empty parking spaces and gravestones and the monstrous, gutted church. She felt very, very alone. And yet, somehow, like there were eyes on her skin. She searched and searched.

"Elfman?" Her voice fell flat. "Elfman, are you here?"

There was no response.

Mira's heart started beating more quickly and tears came to her eyes. She was scared. Of _?_ The graveyard edging the forest? The church? The emptiness of the night? The potential that she was set up and was about to breathe her last?

She pulled out her phone and pulled up Erza's name. _I'm at Kardia Cathedral,_ she wrote. _The driver Kyouka gave me_ ditched _and Elfman was supposed to meet me but he isn't here._ She couldn't even believe she was asking Erza for help again but she had no money. _If I get a cab_ , _can you spot me until I make some money?_ She didn't know if Somnium planned on paying her or of all of her earnings were going to go toward paying off her debt. _If that's the case, then I need another job, too,_ Mira thought miserably.

Her phone sang. _Why the hell are you at the church?_

Mira put an arrow pointing up toward her last texts. _Elfman._

_He's in_ jail.

_He told me he got out._

_Get out of there, Mira. I'm calling a cab. It'll pick you up at the convenience store on Bethesda._

Mira's heart went harder. Erza's fear caught on like wildfire. _Okay._ She was already walking. Her flats were better than high heels. She still winced when she stepped on a stone too large. She lurched to lessen the pressure on her foot. Her phone rang, the sound piercing the night. Mira couldn't contain a strangled scream. Realizing what had happened made her neck flush. She lifted the phone and saw Erza's contact picture on the screen.

"You scared me, Erza."

The noise was heinous on the other end of the line, Mira could barely hear Erza say, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Mira looked around the empty parking lot. It was a _relief_ to step out of its confines and onto the road but she knew she wasn't safe, not by any means. "I'm scared." The words just erupted out. Admitting that felt like betraying herself.

"I called the cab. You just have to get to the next road. They said they'd be five minutes. You can wait in the convenience store until it arrives."

"Thank you." Mira clutched her purse and began to jog. She could see Bethesda just ahead.

"Do you have the gun still?"

"Yes."

"You remember how to fire it?"

"Yes."

Mira could hear someone in the background ask what was going on. Erza took her mouth away from the phone and gave a short explanation.

"Is that Laxus?" Mira asked.

"We're at _Be Franks,_ " Erza replied.

_And I'm wandering around out here._ Mira moved more quickly. Part of her honestly didn't expect to make it onto Bethesda so it was a relief when she rounded the corner and saw the convenience store just ahead, giving off its bright glow. Out front was a black car with _Magnolia Taxi_ written down the side. "I see the cab, it's here already. I'm almost there."

"Good." Erza's couldn't hide her relief.

"I'm sorry, Erza. I thought…" She didn't know _what_ she thought. " _Tante_ Kyouka's escort brought me out here and then she just _left_ me and—"

Erza, true to form, shied away from the coming tears and tried to stick to facts. "Kyouka's escort?"

"Yes." Mira's words came out like a volcano. "I got a text from Elfman saying that he was out of jail and that he wanted to talk and I asked Kyouka for help because I didn't know what to do and then I was driven out here and when I got out of the car to call him, it just took off, leaving me in Kardia Cathedral's parking lot."

"That little worm. I knew she was up to something whispering in Acnologia's ear. I'll call my mother and make sure it's handled. I told the taxi to bring you here. Laxus is listening, though, and suggested meeting him at the station to confirm if Elfman is there or not. He shouldn't have been released."

The station wasn't far from _Be Frank's._ Laxus would arrive before Mira's taxi would. "Alright. I'll tell the taxi to drop me off there." She was close enough now to make out the Taxi's licence plate. "I'm good now. Thank you."

"I'll see you soon."

Mira said thank you again before hanging up. She took another step, and another. Her toes snuck into the patch of light escaping one of the store's many windows, and then Mira knew pain. It started at the base of her skull and lanced down her spine. Her knees smarted next, because she'd fallen to them. Her phone went one way, snugging up against a concrete parking bumper, and she went the other. Before she could press her cheek against the ground, someone strong grabbed her roughly around the waist and easily hauled her into the air. Mira's tongue was too leaden to yell. It was all she could do to hold on to her purse strap because inside that bag was salvation. Maybe. With how black was edging around her vision, she thought the gun couldn't have been further away.


	28. Chapter 28

Biting her cheek until she tasted blood helped scare the blackness away. Mira sucked in a breath like a fish stranded on land and used what energy she had to kick out. She caught thigh with her heel and the grip around her waist loosened some.

"Fuck."

Mira didn't know what was worse: hearing the voice of her attacker and recognizing that it was, in fact, a person and not a monster or realizing that she _knew_ who it was.

"Hurry up."

_Who_ they _are,_ she thought unhappily and brought her foot down again. This time, she got something softer than thigh. There was a lot of colourful cussing and Mira was released. She hit the ground ungracefully and there was an instant where she thought she wouldn't be able to move again. Then she heard her other attacker's feet shuffle over the ground and flight took over. Her muscles brought her up and forward, into the light and out of the shadows. It wasn't the barrier she'd hoped for. Elfman still came on, she saw him in a dizzy haze when she dared to look over her shoulder.

"Come back, Mira. You'll be okay."

"Get her."

Elfman ignored the command for now. "Please."

Mira thought she'd look at her brother forever, trying to align all of the events, make _sense_ of things. "You're the killer. You're the Cardinal."

Elfman's face pinched. "No, Mira."

She didn't _understand._ "Then—"

"I told you to get the girl so get the girl, stop wasting _time_."

Elfman visibly warred with himself. "Please, Mira. I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't want you to be scared and thought this was the easiest way."

Mira clutched her purse. Adrenaline was what had carried her long enough to put ten meters between them. She was running out of it and still had so much further to go. "Easiest way to _what_?"

Elfman looked sheepish. "To get you to come with me. To explain. I knew you'd be scared."

"And I _still am_ , Elfman. What is _happening_?" Mira begged.

"It's okay," he said gently. "You won't be hurt, not anymore. We just want your help." Elfman looked so, so sincere. Tears came to Mira's eyes and blurred his visage.

"How are you here?"

"I was released from jail like I said, so I could finish this work. It's _important_. Now come help us, please, Mira." He took another step forward, large hands outstretched, and Mira did what she never thought she _could_ do and pulled her gun on her brother.

"Get back."

Elfman's expression got tighter; he didn't give up the ground he'd taken. "You don't understand."

"I understand that you're _killing_ people." She was at the Taxi's back door and couldn't comprehend why the driver wasn't _doing_ anything—he hadn't pulled away, hadn't rolled down his window to see what was going on. He was just _sitting_ there. Mira fumbled with the door. When it came open, heat blasted out of the car and brought with it the smell of copper and Mira got it. "I understand that you weren't in my apartment because you wanted to check up on me." She spat out the last and Elfman winced.

"No, I wasn't. I was there for Erza Scarlet. But Mira, I'm _not_ killing those girls. I'm not." He was so adamant that Mira thought she _could_ believe him if he hadn't lured her out here and hit her on the back of the head with the intent of knocking her unconscious. _He didn't do a very good job_ , she thought half-heartedly. Perhaps because he didn't _want_ to. Regret, shame, sentiment hindered his swing. Elfman said, "I'm just doing what I need to do. What we all need to do."

"That's enough, Elfman. Get her and let's leave before our luck runs out and we have a visitor," the man spoke from the shadows but Mira recognized Mister Zero's voice _anywhere_. It still rolled over her like satin stuck through with thorns as it had the _first_ time she heard it. She was still immensely scared. Gone was the thrill. Things weren't so exciting when she was living in it.

"Please, Mira. I don't want to force you." It was surreal to see Elfman look at her with those familiar eyes and to _hear_ his familiar voice say such obscene things. "Please. Do what's right. It'll be better for everyone."

Mira's fingers were sweaty on the grip of her gun. "Better for everyone? How is killing girls better for everyone?"

"They shouldn't be doing what they're doing," Elfman said. " _You_ shouldn't be doing what you're doing."

"I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing? _You_ kill people for a living!" It was _not_ the time to have a domestic but Mira couldn't help it, the words just _erupted_ out. "Listen to yourself." Elfman had been odd since Lisanna's _accident_. Mira knew that. She knew that he worked for Zeref and he killed the people Zeref wanted killed and he did it without a shred of conscience. She _knew_ it. But _this_? "How could you kill those girls? They were _raped,_ Elfman. Did you do that?"

"No, Mira. No. Please." He reached for her still and shuffled closer. "I wouldn't. Believe me."

He only got fuzzier. Were those tears or something else? He had hit her hard enough _._ "No."

"This is tiresome. Bring her or I'm going to kill her. We don't need her to get the Scarlet girl, she'd only _help_."

Mira pitched around the open cab door; it was hard to talk, keep her gun level and _move._ Her head was aching worse than it had before and the black was back at the edges of her vision, threatening. She needed to get out of there and she needed to do it quickly.

"Let me handle her," Elfman said. "Don't kill her." The prospect actually made him sound anxious. Mira truly believed that _he_ truly believed that he was doing something _right_ , that after he used her to lure in Erza he'd let her go, she'd go on her merry way, and he'd continue this perverted _crusade_ he'd somehow begun with his partner.

_God._ Her gun shook. Mira kept holding it with one hand and searched blindly for the driver's door with the other. She found the latch as Elfman stepped closer. "Don't, Elfman. Stay back there."

"You're not going to shoot me, Mira. Put the gun down," Elfman said. "Just come with me, I'll explain everything to you and you'll see."

"That I don't know you anymore?" Mira spat. _Did I_ ever? "That you're crazy? That—"

"That I'm doing this for _you._ "

His words were like a kick in the chest. "For me?"

"With these killings, there's talk of making the escort business illegal again. You won't quit but if you have no place to work—"

"Then I'd work in the streets," Mira said just to be spiteful. "I _like_ my job." The driver's door came open. The smell of blood was even stronger here. "You're lost, Elfman." And angry, his mouth had developed that curl to it that came before an outburst. Mira's heart was _aching_. "I'm _glad_ you've been too afraid to see Lisanna. She wouldn't know her brother anymore."

"Mira—"

"For fuck sakes. _I'll_ get her before you fuck up and we have another Zoya Balewa on our hands." Zero abandoned his shadowed—and safe—corner and Mira was prompted to pull the trigger on her gun. Nothing happened. She was very, very close to panic and then Erza sounded in her head and she moved through the steps. The safety came off and the slide cocked back and when she pulled the trigger the second time, the rapport was _loud._ The kickback was startling, worse than Mira expected, despite Erza's warning. She came very close to dropping the gun after almost catching it in the face.

No one yelled in pain—surprise was another matter entirely—so Mira assumed that she didn't actually _injure_ anyone, but both men scattered and Mira took advantage of the situation. It was _hard_ to turn her back even for an instant but she _needed_ to get away. Adrenaline and instinct took over and she forgot to be squeamish or scared as she grabbed the cab driver, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and a weeping bullet wound in his chest, from the seat and pulled him onto the ground. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't dignified on either of their parts, she, disrespecting the dead as she stepped on and over him to throw herself into the car, him lying on the ground half in and half out of a pothole, looking _less_ like only the dead could.

Swearing followed Mira into the car. A loud _bang_ came shortly after. The rear window fractured. There came the sound of scuffling, more swearing. Elfman. _Because killing me was never the plan._ Another gunshot sounded. Elfman grunted in pain. Mira wanted to stay; part of her, the foolish and stupid and _loyal_ part, wanted to help Elfman as he fought and scrabbled with his partner. Most of her was too scared and too disgusted. She put her foot down and felt the car lurch over what she _hoped_ was a pothole but knew was _not_.

Another bullet hit the car and another. Mira felt the car lurch back and to the left and knew that one of her tires had been shot out. The interior radio went off, asking cab number forty-four if he'd picked up his fare yet on Bethesda. Mira swung out onto the road and didn't really think about where she was going.

* * *

Pride and reason clashed as Erza stood on _Be Frank's_ patio exposed, cellphone to her ear while she waited for her mother. Did she think it was wise to parade herself around after Kyouka so openly betrayed her? Not likely, but she _could not_ find it within herself to give fear any quarter. As soon as she did, Kyouka _won_ and that was intolerable.

At the curb in front of the bar, Town Car running, Yukino sat in the driver's seat, watching, waiting. Erza leaned on the wooden railing surrounding the patio and wondered if she could actually be trusted or if she was one of Kyouka's supporters, too, like the driver had been. Were there other people in Somnium that were loyal to her? And _who_ had Kyouka told of the _actual_ Matriarchal arrangement? Was Zeref going to be knocking on Somnium's doors next, demanding an explanation for the duplicity? And would he even _care_?

Of course, he would. Not because it _mattered_ but because he wouldn't like to be lied to.

Eileen came back on the line after a brief absence. "Kyouka is gone. She took off with her escort, Seilah. We have to assume the worst."

That wasn't hard, Erza _always_ assumed the worst about Kyouka. She fumed. "She _sold_ Mira out to Acnologia."

"I'm sorry, Erza. I knew Kyouka was getting ambitious, I knew she had her sights on Somnium and I knew that she was treading some fine lines when I asked her to do things for me and she was reluctant, but I ignored the signs. We will catch up with her and set some things right. Gildarts is looking."

Erza wanted to scoff and say _that's not good enough_. He's _not good enough._ She knew he was; he was the best. If he was looking for Kyouka, Kyouka would be found. Beside her, Jellal listened and looked fevered—and for more reasons than he'd had too much to drink.

"I want to know when she's found. I have questions to ask her."

Eileen heard him through the phone and told Erza, "This isn't a policing matter. We'll deal with our own."

There was something reckless on his tongue that he bit back just barely, but it was all over his face. Erza said, "Please, mother."

"So he can do what?" Eileen asked.

"Whatever a man currently without a badge does when he has questions."

Eileen didn't pull any punches. "He's been erratic since _Tante_ Alba; I see it in his eye." Erza knew all about erratic. She didn't help Jellal; she knew that, too, feeding him tequila because she didn't want to be the only one spiraling. Her mother asked, "Do you still feel safe with him?"

Erza turned away and said quietly. "I think the question should be, does he feel safe with me." She'd been back and forth, back and forth all evening. She was having a good time. She wanted to leave. She laughed at something Jellal said. She imagined punching him like she did Dan Andrews, getting in a _pre-emptive_ strike before he went bad and she was in too deep again.

"You know how I feel about men. Your father was bad enough but when you brought home that nurse…"

"I know, mother." Back then, Erza had been given plenty of warnings. She'd chosen to ignore them and had blamed her mother for years for everything that had happened. Mostly, she blamed herself, though. Her _pride._

"This won't be like the last time."

"No," Erza agreed. "It won't."

Eileen changed the subject. "Stay away from Somnium for tonight until I can scare up any supporters Kyouka might have had, and stay close to Yukino, Erza. I will contact your detective when we find Kyouka."

"Thank you. Yukino, she's loyal?"

"More loyal than Kyouka ever was, but if not, you have the Pico?"

Erza turned off every bit of herself that tried to shy from her mother's practicality. "Yes."

"Good. And Erza," Eileen said before Erza could get in a _goodbye,_ "Somnium will need a new Matriarch before the day is gone."

"I suppose you'll have to step out of the dark at some point."

"No, my love. I run things better from the sidelines. I always have. You know who I want as my successor."

Taking charge of Somnium would be the utmost affront to Kyouka. It was tempting. So, so tempting. Erza tempered herself and thought of all the reasons she didn't _want_ to be associated with her mother's business. She didn't want to be handed things. Somnium was a poorly veiled front for the illegal trade of the illicit. She wanted a different path, away from all of the things she thought didn't define her but was quickly finding out _did_. "Acnologia knows about you."

"Yes. I heard. That's not a problem. My secret is out, so what? Retirement isn't unheard of; it's your turn."

"No one is going to believe that you stepped aside," Erza tried in a desperate attempt at distancing herself. She didn't _want_ Somnium. _Did_ not.

Eileen was purposefully oblivious to the quarrelsome tone in Erza's voice. "Why not? After Kyouka's harsh betrayal, it's not unreasonable that I would step down and give my business to my daughter, someone that I can _trust_ while I recover from the deep wound Kyouka dealt me."

"What if your daughter doesn't _want_ to be _Tante_?" Erza asked. It wasn't about the moniker _Tante_ and what came with it and they both knew it.

"You wouldn't have come back to me if that were true."

Erza didn't know how to refute her.

"There is a place here for your friend, too, and her sister if you agree."

Erza _hated_ that she had people her mother could use against her. "I'm not having this conversation right now. I have to go."

"You only procrastinate the inevitable. Everything is eventual, Erza, even this."

"Don't forget to tell me when you find Kyouka." In the silence that followed her words, Erza was sure her mother was priming something cutting, something that would take her out at the knees and convince her that _this_ course of action was the only one available to her.

Eileen said, "I'll send more people to watch you. Be safe tonight, Erza. Good night."

Erza hung up and spend some time staring at the car where Yukino waited. Jellal asked, "And?"

_And_? Erza didn't want to recount her uncomfortable conversation. "She said she'll contact me when she finds Kyouka." She kept her eyes away from Jellal and stuffed her phone in her purse. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Back to your apartment," she said on a whim.

"You don't want to see Mira?"

Jellal did, that was obvious. He had _questions_ and all Erza wanted to do was step away from Somnium and her mother. "Laxus will take her to see her brother. She'll have to make a statement. There's not much for me to do, is there?"

Jellal wavered.

"The correct answer is _no,_ Jellal. So let's go." She was _tired_ of _Be Frank's_ obnoxious noise. She wanted quiet.

"You want to come back to my apartment?"

Erza was surprised by how earnest she felt saying, "Yes." It wasn't just about the drugs she was going to smoke on the way there and it wasn't just about keeping away from Somnium. "Come on." Erza blocked out thought as she took Jellal's hand and led him from the patio. He stumbled after her, more flexible now than he had been a moment ago. His hands were calloused; very different than the men she usually saw. The men that could afford to buy her, the men that were _willing_ , were usually those that made their money shuffling around money, _talking_ , selling. Jellal didn't have nice hands like the _last_ man she willingly took to bed without bribe. Nurse's hands were usually dry but he'd slathered them in cream any chance he got.

Erza shied away from the memory as she yanked open the rear passenger's door and threw herself inside the Town Car. Jellal joined her and closed the door.

"Yes, I understand, Gildarts," Yukino was saying into a phone pressed against her ear. "Yes. I will." When she hung up, Yukino lifted her gaze to the rearview mirror and met Erza's eyes. She had questions, which meant, Erza could only assume, that Gildarts had told her of Somnium's new and unique position. Erza prepared herself for resistance. Instead, she got, "Where am I taking you, _Tante_ Erza?"

Jellal looked at Erza curiously. Erza's mouth felt drier than hell. "Just Erza, Yukino. Somnium isn't mine yet."

"Gildarts said—"

"Just drive, please." She gave Yukino Jellal's address. The car went into gear without another word. Erza brought two things from her purse, her gun, and her pipe. Jellal touched both and complained about neither. He touched her after, in a fog of marijuana. He kissed her jaw and her chin and her cheekbones; Erza knew what he was doing, whittling her down. First, she let him continue just to see if she could. Then, she let him go on because she liked it. It was a bit of a game, seeing how close she'd let him come, how close he'd _dare_. Never so close that she had to tell him to stop. Close enough that she _thought_ about it.

The only way Erza knew she didn't have _all_ of Jellal's attention was because a kilometer from his apartment, he brought his lips to her ear and muttered, "Do you really think we don't have to go back?"

Erza ignored Yukino in the front seat and took off her seatbelt. Once free, she climbed into Jellal's lap and, greedy, needy and feeling selfish after Mira had taken so much from her recently, she forced Jellal to grab her breasts. Her mouth found his neck where her teeth marks still lived in a bruise. Days hadn't done much good for it, it was still black and purple in the passing streetlights. "They're fine. Mira is fine. Laxus is fine. They're fine together." There was a voice in the back of her mind telling her to go to the station. Her body spoke louder. She didn't want to fucking think about that. She'd been the friend Mira needed her to be and now she wanted a few hours _not_ to worry. Grinding off Jellal's lap distracted him enough that his words got dried up and helped convince Erza that this was alright.

Jellal had to take his hands out of her dress when the car lurched to a stop. Erza felt the ghost of his touch long after she'd stumbled off his lap and staggered toward the door being opened by a man she recognized from Somnium's halls. Her mother wasn't lying; her people were everywhere.

" _Tante_ ," he greeted in a thick, south-shore accent. This time, Erza didn't bother protesting. She'd talk to her mother after and a new _Tante_ would be chosen and things would go back to ' _normal_ ' for her. Whatever in the fuck that meant anymore.

"Hallways are clear. The apartment hasn't been checked yet."

Jellal paused halfway out of the car when he realized what he was saying. "My apartment."

"Yes."

He looked more surprised than mad. And then the gears shifted and he looked at Erza briefly like she imagined _everyone_ would look at her if she accepted her mother's offer. She could practically hear him saying _Tante,_ turning the term over in his mind, getting used to the idea. It wasn't something so stupid that came out of his mouth, though, thankfully. "I'll check my own apartment. My dog…"

"Knows which house is hers," the man said dryly. "We noticed."

Erza didn't take Jellal's hand this time as he entered the building and crossed the foyer that still smelled like old lady perfume, sweat and faintly of cigarette smoke. He suffered for it, swaying because he was really too drunk for his own good. He didn't look super happy about it, either. He'd peaked; everything else after this would be comedown. Erza planned on getting out of him what she needed before he fell into bed unconscious and slept it off.

In the elevator, Jellal missed the right button twice, hitting the button for floor twenty-two first, and then thirty-two. Erza took pity on him and jammed twenty-seven. The elevator still stopped on twenty-two. Jellal tried to get out and Erza told him that it was the wrong stop.

"That's dumb."

She laughed, too high, and brought him back against the railing. Jellal was the kind of man that needed something to focus on. When he had Erza in his hands, the drunken glaze retreated some and so did his worry. He sucked her bare shoulder and Erza forgot herself, just like she'd hoped. It wasn't until the elevator dinged again ten seconds later that she reluctantly thought they should move before the doors closed and they headed up to floor thirty-two.

Left of Jellal's apartment was a woman at the end of the hallway with Somnium's Dreaming Tree tattooed on her neck, a weeping willow with heavy branches that stretched toward an imaginary ground. She nodded once and didn't pull the gun Erza knew was hidden beneath the suit jacket she wore so Erza imagined that meant she could be trusted, for what that was worth.

Jellal got his keys out and almost dropped them. He figured his shit out and got the door open before Beau could bark and wake up all of the neighbours. The dog padded over the parquet flooring looking sleepy-eyed and slightly grumpy. That disappeared when she saw Jellal. Her tail started to wag and the yodeling began.

"One-eighty," Erza muttered.

"She thought I was Wendy." Jellal dropped himself to the floor right there at the door and welcomed the dog into his arms. A little more of Erza's guard was worn. She'd seen Jellal drunk before. She'd seen him very drunk and a little drunk and now this in between where his last shot of tequila was catching up to him and he was pressured and stressed and grieving and all he wanted to do was pet his fucking dog.

She dropped her purse with her gun and her cellphone to the ground by the door and kicked off her shoes. Her toes curled on the _Welcome_ mat she didn't think Jellal would have ever bought, and she stretched out her hand in invitation. Jellal looked up from where Beau covered him in dog fur and met her eye. He was slow, blinking, realizing she was there, though she'd walked in with him, and going through his course of action. He eventually shooed his dog away and took Erza's hand.

It was best not to think, Erza decided, after locking the front door and then leading Jellal into his bedroom. His bed was as unmade today as it had been yesterday and the day before, and the day before that and she was sure since he _stopped_ working at the Prayer and started doing things on his own. He was hopeless; focused on what really mattered and not things like _did I tuck my sheet in right?_

She liked the mess. There _were_ more important things than tidiness.

At the bed, Erza permitted Jellal to sit and brushed his grasping hands away. She wanted to be touched but not yet. Jellal leaned back on his palms and looked at her through thick lashes. She was reaching for his jeans; his question stopped her in her tracks. "Are you going to be _Tante?_ "

Erza pursed her lips. "I don't really care about that stuff right now."

He did, apparently. "I think it'd be good."

"You shouldn't be encouraging me. You know Somnium does illegal things."

"No, I don't," Jellal was quick to deny. "I know that there's a bordello upstairs with all of its papers and all of its inspections up to date. I know that they sell copious amounts of alcohol to everyone _other_ bars don't want to sell to, and I know that they have a bastard working there with a bad sense of humor."

Erza couldn't help but smile. "Gildarts?"

"That's the one. Left my pride under one of Somnium's tables when I thought he was going to shoot me."

Erza laughed and Jellal grinned dopily. She lied to keep it lighthearted. "He was just trying to impress my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Mmhm. He's foolish and thinks he can make her love him."

"Why does that make him foolish?"

"Because when people whisper about Somnium's spider, they really mean my mother, and it's a name that's very, very well suited. She's beautiful. She's cunning. She's coy. And then she's vicious. Men don't get to love women like my mother. They get used and then they get eaten."

His eyes fluttered listening to her voice. "Do you want to use me?"

Erza's heart turned. "Are you saying I'm like my mother?"

"You think you are."

And she couldn't deny him; so she tried to hurt him to keep him at bay. "Using you is the only thing I've ever wanted."

No pain flitted across his face. "If that's what you want." He reached for her thigh and Erza let his fingers loiter. Moving north, his touch was not gentle exactly, but purposeful. Here was the Jellal that had left her on the bed those days ago, the one that knew what she liked and did it without being asked. The one that ignored the murderous look in her eye when he got too intimate and was intimate anyway. He was more dangerous than any fist or gun could be, simply because Erza _wanted_ him.

Allowing herself to be pulled in and locking her arms around his throat had never been her intention. Pressing herself against his body and lifting her leg on the bed beside him? No, she'd planned to take her things and _leave_ before things could get any more out of hand. Conviction just wasn't there. Another thrill moved through her as he found her behind and squeezed. Erza's other knee found a spot beside Jellal's other hip, too. Her dress was up around her hips before she could fathom a protest and Jellal was back to kissing her neck. At her ear, he took her earring into his mouth and bit her earlobe just hard enough to make her shiver and then he was moving on again. Her chin got the same treatment, and her cheek. Erza waited and waited for her most treasured rule to be contorted in painful ways and wasn't disappointed. His lips on the edge of hers was toxic. Most unfathomable, though, was how her body would _not_ obey her when she told it to move back and get some space between them.

It seemed Jellal was surprised by her immobility, too. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Erza couldn't imagine saying yes.

"Erza?"

Part of her longed to deny him of this thing he so obviously wanted; offering just a taste was a kind of power, too, though. Jellal's hands squeezed her behind again and his breath broke over her cheek and Erza drummed up her courage and kissed him. She hadn't forgotten what it was to kiss a man, though she'd wanted to, she hadn't forgotten what it was to kiss _Jellal_ , though she'd tried.

Surprise came and went on the wings of a pleased grunt, and then Erza was tasting tequila and beer and Jellal. He needed to shave; she liked it. His hands were too insistent; she liked that, too, about as much as she hated it. Jellal was a greedy kisser and took everything she didn't studiously hold back for herself. His tongue was on hers, his hands were carelessly bringing up her dress, and he was leaning back, trying to bring her with him. Erza's head spun. _She_ was supposed to be the one in control. She stopped letting herself get kissed and leaned away. There wasn't nearly enough oxygen in the room.

Jellal pulled on her dress and grabbed her with rapacious hands, unperturbed by her distance, her frantic breathing or what either might mean. Then again, he was always flirting with the edge, aware that she'd more than once thought about killing him for all of the ways he pushed her without ever doing _much._ The dress stretched to its limits with no ground gained. "Take this off."

At the sound of his hoarse voice, low in Erza's belly tightened and violent energy redirected itself. She felt like she was swimming and wished it was the drugs and alcohol.

"I want to see you,"Jellal rasped, and Erza found herself standing and obeying. She regretted it almost as soon as her feet were beneath her because Jellal took it upon himself to follow her up and come behind her, further demolishing her boundaries. His shirt was off and his pants were on the floor before she'd ever gotten her dress over her shoulders. He pressed into her back and helped her part with her clothes. White material pooled on the floor, a cloud on the wrong side of things.

Fingers slid through her hair and curled around to grip her chin. Erza felt like a noose was wrapped around her throat. The sensation was gentled by light kisses, a line from her shoulder to her ear again. When he asked, Erza opened her mouth and brushed her tongue over the pad of his thumb. He made another pleasured grunt and bent just enough to hook his fingers around the back of her thigh. Erza felt like brittle steel as he put her leg up on the bed but when he stepped into her and held her both nearly vertical and tight? She thought she could be as mercury, most pliant when volatile.

* * *

Mira's phone had been going to voicemail for the last twenty minutes and Laxus had moved well beyond the realms of freaked out. She should have been there by now. A dispatcher had come out for a smoke and he'd bummed three off of her, totally forgetting his resolve to quit.

With a cigarette smouldering and hanging off his lip, he called Erza. Her phone, too, went to voicemail. Jellal was next on the list. He thought he knew why they weren't answering. That didn't stop him from being annoyed, though. "Fuck." He tried Mira again and got her voicemail, though this time, the greeting was different.

"The man that delivered Mirajane Strauss to her judgement would be absolved of any wrongdoing. Don't fear, on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned."

Laxus almost dropped his phone, recognizing a voice from long ago. The only reason why he held it was because something else had caught his attention, a Magnolia Taxi perforated with bullet holes, weaving drunkenly to the station steps. It screeched to a halt and Mira fell out. There were no tears, though they loomed on the horizon.

"Laxus! Elfman—Elfman is helping the Cardinal. Mister Zero. He's—he's a cop. He's the one killing girls and he tried to kill me and the taxi driver—I left him and—"

Laxus didn't even have to tell her to slow down, Mira stopped all on her own and swallowed. It didn't help; he knew the look on her face, he'd seen it before when people would get too worked up. The only thing he could do was point her toward the sparse natural garden out front of the station and let nature take its course. While she heaved he looked to the car and thought. _Mister Zero._ Tores. Elfman, Mira's brother.

The voice on Mira's answering machine belonged to neither.

He called his grandfather.


	29. Chapter 29

It wasn't hot and yet, Laxus sweated in his leather jacket and regretted every beer he'd drunk and every shot of tequila he'd knocked back. The phone against his ear shrilled and shrilled. When the voicemail came along, he hung up and tried again, and again. He counted the rings to block out the sound of Mira's dry heaving. Eventually, she had nothing left in her stomach and her body eased up some. Though Laxus had thought she'd be too stunned to cry, Mira started in on that next.

Laxus looked back over his shoulder to see that she'd put herself against the stone barrier that held back the garden and her sick and rested her cheek on the craggy rock. Her chest rose and fell in a silent hiccough. She didn't have any air. Laxus didn't feel equipped to help her through any bullshit. He scavenged some patience from somewhere.

"Put your head between your knees and breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, slowly."

Mira was so catatonic, she followed his orders without question. Laxus hung up the phone and tried again. This time it was answered on the third ring.

"Hello?" Makarov Dreyar had become frequently more vulnerable in his later years, changing from someone Laxus had once thought indomitable and heroic into a man that lost his keys every time he turned around. He'd never sounded so off-kilter as he did tonight, though, voice blemished with sleep, cracking with fear. "Laxus?"

"Gramps."

At least Makarov knew better than to be relieved. "What happened? Are you—?"

Laxus interrupted before his grandfather could make him run through the ' _are you hurt_ ' gauntlet. "Are the doors locked?"

Makarov paused. "I think so."

"Well, don't think, check," Laxus rasped. He could hear his grandfather get out of bed. In his mind, he went through the motions with the old man, checking first the sliding glass door off the kitchen and then shuffling across the house to do the garage and the front door at once because they were side-by-side.

"Basement, too."

"What is going on?"

"Dad's back in town."

"Your father?"

His grandfather sounded surprised but there was a little hook at the end of his question. Laxus didn't take anything at face value anymore, after all, he had once thought Makarov Dreyar was above associating with Gildarts Clive. He forced himself to ask next, "You knew, didn't you?"

"Knew?"

Laxus' fuse was shorter than ever. "Don't fuck with me, just answer the question! Did you know he was in town or not?"

There was no scolding for tone or language choice, which made Laxus feel guiltier than if Makarov would have done what he normally would have done and told him to mind himself. Guilt was such an ephemeral thing. "He stopped by."

Laxus felt his stomach drop. "What?"

Makarov spilled. "Yesterday morning. Early. He showed up. We had tea, and that was it."

"Tea."

"Yes, Laxus, tea."

"He was there long enough to have _tea_ and you didn't say a fucking thing." It took his voice echoing back at him for Laxus to recognize that he was too loud. He toned his yell back to a growl. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up."

"My hopes?"

"Ivan told me he was off the drugs and had turned over a new leaf."

Laxus' glower was lost on the rock surrounding the garden that Mira still huffed against. "I'm not a kid anymore, Gramps. My waste of skin father is a waste of skin. He'll _always_ be that way. That isn't news to me." He'd seen enough men and women get on the drugs and go back and forth getting off of them. He'd seen the ones that crashed and burned and the ones that barely scraped out of that pit alive. His father was a burner. He'd known that his whole life.

"It would still hurt you to hear him spouting off about how he'd found God and wants his old life back. I almost believed him."

No surprise there; Makarov Dreyar always wanted to believe in Ivan.

"I don't have time for this," Laxus decreed when things felt too real. "Keep the doors locked. Even for Ivan." He no longer wanted to call him _Dad_.

"What is this about?" Makarov asked.

"Cardinal," Laxus said simply.

"My son?"

For once, Laxus felt like he didn't have the answers. "You can call me if you need me but _stay in the house._ I'm not kidding even a little bit."

"Laxus, wait, what do you mean Cardi—"

Laxus needed to hang up, otherwise, he was going to say things aloud that he could never revoke and to speak them was to give them life. The phone went into his pocket and he regarded Mira's limp form. "Come on. We have to get inside." There were things to do. Like take Mira's statement, send off a crime unit to sweep the crime scene, figure out how Elfman Strauss got out of jail, and lastly, head over to Jellal's and see if he was sober enough to join in a manhunt. If he was honestly looking for his old man, he didn't want some shitty nobody chasing his heels, he wanted his partner.

Mira looked up at him blankly. Laxus told her, "You need to make a statement, Mira, an official one. But before we do that, I need to know everything that happened." Because as soon as it was confirmed that the Super was involved, it would get ripped away from Laxus so quick. "Start to finish. Leave nothing out."

"Okay," was the most apathetic word Laxus had ever heard. She took Laxus' hand when he offered it to her and allowed herself to be pulled upright. Laxus tucked her beneath his arm and used her as much as she used him to guide himself inside.

They took the elevator up to Interrogation. Mira had been in there so often lately that she knew just where to go without being told. On the upper floor, the station looked very different. It was abuzz. There was electricity in the air that made Laxus' arm hair stand on end. He caught snippets of conversation here and there. Someone had called in a shooting on Bethesda. One was confirmed dead, two other victims in indeterminate condition.

"Is that about Elfman?" Mira asked. "Is he hurt?"

"I don't know. Quiet for now," Laxus told her and ushered her into the interrogation room. She dropped herself into one of the chairs and shivered. Laxus parted with his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "I need you to answer some stuff for me."

"I want to know how Elfman is."

"As soon as I hear, I'll let you know," Laxus promised. "But when I let it leak that Tores is involved in this Cardinal case and we have _proof_ , this thing is going to be ripped away from me and we won't be able to have this conversation."

She still wore a contrary expression, even as she said, "Okay."

"Where did you run into Elfman and Tores?"

"Bethesda," Mira murmured. "I just got to the convenience store by Kardia Cathedral. Because Elfman—" She hiccoughed and altered her next words. "There was a taxi. The driver—he's dead and then I pulled him out of the cab and _—"_

Laxus grabbed two of the many water bottles out of the package on the floor, one for him, one for Mira. They were warm; he didn't think Mira would care very much. He certainly didn't. To keep the conversation linear, he asked, "Backup. Why were you at the church?"

Mira said, "Elfman texted me. He wanted me to meet him."

"And you did."

"I thought it was weird," she said defensively. "I _told_ _Tante_ Kyouka. She said she'd send her guard out with me. That I would be safe. She thought Elfman would have something on Acnologia, though, and wanted him to come back to Somnium."

He kept his exasperated sigh under tight wraps.

Mira wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand. "I got out to call his name and the driver left me. She left me, Laxus. Why would she do that?"

"I don't know." Laxus wished that he could tell her something that would make her feel better.

It didn't seem Mira heard him, anyway. "And then you know. I called Erza because I didn't have any money and I asked if she could spot me. She called me a cab to Bethesda, I walked there, and when I went to get inside, Elfman hit me in the back of the head. He was supposed to knock me out. I don't think he wanted to, though."

She was _still_ hoping her brother was a better man than he actually was, even after Elfman tried to hand her off to the man that had been killing and articulating girls all around Magnolia. Laxus tried to imagine what it would have felt like to experience that betrayal. It wasn't so hard to put himself in her place, he was feeling plenty betrayed himself just then. "Who else was with Elfman?"

"Mister Zero—"

"Superintendent Tores."

"Superintendent?"

"Yeah." His station wasn't supremely important then, something else had occurred to Laxus. "Do you remember someone else there? A man?" Laxus couldn't even give her anything else, what did his father even look like anymore? Were their ghosts in his eyes still? Was he thin and sweaty and sallow? Were there track marks on his arms?

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"Think, Mira. He would have been tall. Dark hair, maybe—"

"I don't know—"

"His name is Ivan."

"I don't know, Laxus."

"He changed the greeting on your voicemail. He was there. Or he was shortly after. You probably looked right at him—"

"I said I don't remember anyone else," she said firmly and Laxus realized that he was pushing her, his hands were on the table between them and he was in her face.

Laxus breathed out and stood straight. "Sorry."

"Who is he?"

He was surprisingly ashamed and couldn't make the words come out. Not yet. He didn't even _know_ what his father's role was in all this. He could only speculate and while that was tempting, he had Jellal screaming in his head telling him not to jump to conclusions, that it was sloppy police work. "Just a suspect."

Somehow, she was an expert at reading him. "You're not being truthful."

Laxus steamrolled her probing. "What did Elfman say to you?"

She closed down and leaned on being obtuse. "I don't know."

"We don't have time to play games, Mira. I need to tell IA that you're here and that you've been attacked by the Cardinal, they need to get out and start looking for the Super."

"And what are you doing, Laxus?"

"Whatever I'm told to," he lied. "Tell me what was said."

Mira puffed out her cheeks. "He was interested in Erza. He thought I would help him get to her."

"Erza."

"Yes. He said that what we were doing was wrong."

"What you were doing?"

"Being escorts. He said that these killings were bringing into question the legalization of prostitution. He said that if it was illegal, I wouldn't do it anymore." More tears started trekking down her face.

"What then?"

"He came after me but I had this." She took a gun from her bag and put it on the table.

"Holy fuck," Laxus swore and grabbed it away from her. "You can't bring that in here, Mira."

"What was I supposed to do with it?"

"Not fucking have it in the first place! Where did this come from?"

"I took it from my sister."

"Why the fuck would Lisanna have a gun?"

If he thought she was closed off before, he was wrong. "I don't know."

He looked her square in the eye, hoping he'd see the lie if she dared tell it. "Did she hurt someone?"

"No."

And there is was. "I can't help you if you're going to lie to me."

She had taken a resolute stand. "I've told you everything you need to catch the Cardinal, right?"

Sure she had, but if she thought that was the end of it, she was sorely mistaken. "I'm going to have to submit this to evidence."

"I know."

Laxus wished his fingerprints weren't all over it. If the Captain didn't hate him before, she certainly was going to now. "Are you sure you don't want to disclose anything else?"

"No."

He looked at her for another long second, trying to whittle her down with a stare that had made plenty of people more practiced and hardened than Mira crumble. She didn't flinch and Laxus was _glad_. Appalled. But _glad_ that she didn't tell him anymore. The less he knew, the better his plea of ignorance was going to be if this precarious house of cards they'd built came crashing down around them and all of Mira's lies came looking for her blood. "Then I'll go get the officers handling the case. Tell them what you told me."

"Okay."

Laxus came across the table and brushed her hair back from her forehead. She looked up at him and there wasn't just hate in her gaze. He kissed her forehead gently. "I'm glad you're okay."

Her tears spilled over again; she cried quieter this time and Laxus left her there, slowing only to make sure that the door was locked.

* * *

Evidence was a series of rooms that were categorized neatly by Araña Webb but everyone knew that it was Levy McGarden's domain. When she wasn't in the field collecting evidence, she could be found here, pouring over it in that analytical way she had.

She used to be known for her all-nighters; the Captain caught wind of her doing that without permission and had put an end to it. Laxus knew that Levy obeyed the orders for the first few weeks, but girls like her, they needed to keep their brains busy. She got smarter about how she worked. Mostly. She'd fooled the Captain but Jellal had passed on to Laxus that he spied her working in the far corner crunched up between two tall filing cabinets late one night. Hiding. It was a good place to hole up, small—she'd be one of the few that could actually _fit_ back there, but Jellal had a sharp eye for people hiding in plain sight.

The lights were dimmed inside the cavernous room and it was silent over the sound of the furnace coming on. Laxus headed to Levy's hiding spot with sure steps and peeked over the top of the tall cabinets. Sure enough, there was Levy, folded up like an accordion. Her eyes weren't on his, her chin was on her knees and she was staring resolutely at the file in her hand, waiting for him to leave.

"Hey, Levy."

She jumped, surprised, and knocked her head on one of the cabinets. "Ow!"

"Careful."

She rubbed the back of her head and gazed up at him. Her cheeks were pink. "What are you doing here, Detective?"

Laxus set Mira's gun down on top of the filing cabinet. "I need this submitted into evidence and I don't have time."

It took her a second. "You want _me_ to do it?"

"What else are you doing? Not working, right? Because the Captain said no more all-nighters without her permission."

Levy's neck joined her cheeks in high colour. "I'm not—"

"I don't care. Just bag and tag this for me, eh?"

"Where did it come from?"

Laxus fought a vicious battle. On one side, he'd lie and say he found the gun and save Mira some trouble. On the other, he did his job and was truthful. He had no idea which would come out when he opened his mouth but it was a _relief_ when he told Levy the truth. "Mirajane Strauss brought it in here. She confiscated it off her sister and used it to defend herself tonight when she was attacked by two men claiming to be involved in the Cardinal case."

Levy was standing before he'd stopped talking and had a bag stamped with _Evidence_ in her hand, pulled from her pocket like she carried an endless supply. Maybe she did, he didn't know. " _Why_ would you touch it?"

"Because she took it from her purse and put it on the table in Interrogation. What was I supposed to do? ' _Hey, Mira, hold on to that gun so I can go get an evidence bag_?'"

Her brows came up at the casual way he said _Mira_ and not _Mirajane_ or _Miss Strauss._ Levy was quick and she was observant and Laxus knew that with only that little bit of information, she had his number. He also knew he didn't give a fuck. "There are _phones_ , Detective. Next time, call and I'll _bring you_ an evidence bag."

Laxus was properly shamed. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He was stubborn, though. "Fight or flight, Levy. Sometimes, you just got to react."

Her nose curled up.

"So will you do it? I'll keep this hole you've found between you and me."

"You really won't tell Captain?"

"Nope."

She sighed. "I suppose."

"Thanks." He turned from her and was already thinking about his next stop when Levy called him back.

"You left your keys on the cabinet over there earlier." She nodded to the cabinet by the door. Laxus followed her gaze and sure enough found an overloaded keyring on top of the grey cabinet. His first reaction was to deny her because he hadn't been in Evidence in _days_ but he could see the Deadpool keychain from where he stood.

"Those _are_ yours, right?"

"Right." Laxus' bones felt rusty; making them move was a challenge. He picked up the keyring and examined it just in case there was a mistake. Certainly _not._ Beside Deadpool was his Led Zeppelin keychain, and beside _that_ was the metal chain with his gaudy graduate ring that he vowed to _never_ wear. He put it all in his pocket and studied the cabinets they'd rested upon. Arrest files. For kicks, he opened the _S_ drawer and thumbed over the files, looking for _Strauss, Elfman_. It was gone. He was sure if he put Elfman's name into a computer, he wouldn't get any information there, either, and if he looked, all of Elfman's possessions that were confiscated when he was brought in would be gone. No trace.

_And now you know how Elfman messaged Mira._ Someone had gotten his phone for him.

"What's wrong?" Levy asked.

"Anyone you didn't recognize come through here today?" Laxus kept his eyes on the drawer as he asked, pretending that it took special concentration to close it.

"I don't know. I wasn't in here at all today, Araña was. Why?"

And there likely wasn't any video feed, either, they'd done it once before. "Forget it," he said and left before she could ask anything else.

* * *

The station holding cells were down a standalone corridor off the main entrance. It belonged to the old building and hadn't been touched since the station was first put together. The floors this way changed from wood to clinical white tile as soon as it was out of the public's eye. It was easier to clean. The cells themselves were the iron bar kind, straight out of a 1950's cop film. The only modern thing about them was the stainless toilets that hung off the back walls.

Two of the four cells were filled. He looked for Gray even though he knew he wouldn't be here, but stuffed away in IA until all of this was figured out. Laxus searched but couldn't tell which cell had been Elfman's, it had been cleaned and the sheets changed already.

"Can I help you, Detective?"

Laxus turned and found the supervising officer, a tall and lanky man with a salty beard. "I need to know who authorized Elfman Strauss for release."

"Superintendent Tores came in with the papers and told me to release him early this morning."

So he came in personally. That was a bold move; he'd all but shrugged off his guise and accepted that he was a part of the Cardinal case. "Did he say _why_?"

The man shrugged. "No, I didn't see reason to question when he had all the paperwork. Why, is there a problem?"

There were a lot of problems. None of which Laxus cared to discuss. He pulled out his phone without answering the man and tried Jellal again. Predictably, it went to voicemail. Laxus didn't let himself get frustrated, he marched himself back the way he came with the intention of going to IA, leaving the guard looking confused.

In the heart of the station, where the old and new segments were divided, Laxus went left down the hallway to Internal Affairs. He thought it would be a ghost town and wasn't disappointed. Only one person sat at their desk, a woman with dark hair stylized in a pixie cut.

"Can I help you?"

"I need to know who Captain Milkovich assigned the Cardinal case."

"That would be me, Detective Rollin."

Laxus said upfront. "I have a witness waiting upstairs in Interrogation."

The pen she'd been holding dropped. "What?"

"Her name is Mirajane Strauss. She pulled into the station about fifteen minutes ago. She was attacked on Bethesda Avenue before that but escaped."

The woman had been in shock but it seemed that she played catch up well. "A unit was sent out to Bethesda a few minutes ago for a shooting."

Laxus waved her on. "That's right. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"Where are you going?"

"I don't have _time_ to chat. I have to go pick up Erza Scarlet," Laxus told her. "She's the Cardinal's next target." He could tell by the look that she gave him that was an unacceptable answer.

"Wait."

"Did you not just hear me?"

"I heard you. I need more information." She stood and grabbed her jacket off the back of her swivelling chair. "You know where to find this girl?"

Laxus thought about Jellal and how Ultear was going to react when she found out he was dabbling in the escort game. It was a little late to cover for him, though. "Yeah, I know where she is."

"Good. You can fill me in on the way."

"What about Mira?"

"I'll get someone else to take her statement," Rollin said. She pulled out her phone and made two phone calls, one to her partner and one to another detective as she walked. Laxus had to stretch his legs to catch up to her; she was tall and had a long stride.

They met a man in fleet by the name of Sawyer and climbed into a Tahoe that was cleaner than the one that Laxus and Jellal shared. On the drive, he told them everything he knew, including his suspicions about the voice on Mira's answering machine. Some people said talking about family drama was alleviating. It only made everything that much more real for Laxus.

* * *

The first thing Laxus noticed when they pulled into Jellal's apartment was how still the parking lot was. Yeah, it was pushing dawn and most people were asleep, but this was eerie. That could have also been paranoia. There wasn't anyone in his line of sight but he could _feel_ eyes on him and knew that somewhere, someone was watching. _Knew it._ He half expected to get a bullet in the chest as soon as the truck's front tires hit the parking lot. He remained intact. Nervous, though. Two minutes into their ten-minute drive and he had begged for the air conditioner to be turned on. He was still sweating through his T-shirt _despite_ the cold. He fucking hated that he inherited his grandfather's penchant to sweat when he was stressed.

Laxus didn't say anything to Rollin or Sawyer as he first chose the right key to get inside and then got out of the car. Approaching the door, he was sure that whoever watched him was still at it. He searched the hedges lining the walkway and between the cars and the cars themselves and never saw a soul. He was sick of people being better at hiding than he was at finding. The only solace he had was the gun he'd shoved into his shoulder holster before leaving the station.

"Jellal's got a dog," Laxus said when IA's monkeys caught up and his key was in the door. "She's not big on strangers so don't go too fast."

"Good to know," Rollin replied.

The lobby was just as eerily empty as the parking lot had been. It smelled like people; perfume and faint marijuana and cigarette smoke. Laxus wished he was smoking. He jammed the elevator button and waited impatiently, though it only took seconds for it to arrive.

On floor twenty-seven, the elevator opened and Laxus saw his first person: a woman wearing a suit with a bulge at her side that was unmistakably a weapon. She wasn't quiet when she said, "What are you doing here, Detective Dreyar?"

He placed her in the car that dropped Erza and Mira off at Somnium those days ago. He searched for her name but couldn't place it; the best he had was that she was Angel's sister. "We have reason to believe Erza is the Cardinal's next target. We want to bring her into the station for her protection."

" _Tante_ Erza doesn't go anywhere without her guard."

_Tante_ now?

"And you are that guard?" Rollin asked.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And I suppose—"

Erza's guard cut in. "I have a permit to carry. You'll see everything is above-board if you check. My name is Yukino Agria." She approached, and as she approached, she pulled a wallet from her pocket. From its depths, she handed over two plastic cards, a permit, and her licence. Rollin took both and studied them with a sour look on her face.

"Miss Scarlet will be safe in our custody—"

"It's my job, Detective," Yukino told her.

"What does it matter? Just let her ride in the car," Sawyer said finally. "I want to get out of here."

Rollin sighed and nodded to Laxus. Laxus hammered on Jellal's door first and got a responding bark from Beau. He waited a second. When the door wasn't pulled back, he inserted his key and opened it. The shepherd was there, another bark resounding down the hallway. She quieted when she saw Laxus but eyed his company skeptically. Laxus gave her his hand and said hello as his _All Dogs Can Bite_ instructor taught him (when he first heard about the training he thought it was bullshit but surprisingly, it had saved him from more than a few ass bites). Beau's tail wagged once and that was all. Her head went down and stayed that way.

"Maybe you should wait out here," Laxus decided. "I'll go in."

"Sure," Sawyer was the first to agree. Laxus didn't wait for anyone else's approval before he closed the door in their faces. He could hear his partner snoring and said to Beau, "You think he has pants on?"

The dog's tail wagged more readily now.

"Me, neither," Laxus muttered and followed the shepherd to the bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand to the right of the bed was on so Laxus had no trouble picking Jellal out of the mess of blankets at Erza's back. His face was buried in her hair and he had her in a vice lock. Erza, at least, was covered with a sheet; Jellal's ass was hanging out, as Laxus feared.

"Classy, Fernandez. Wake the fuck up."

Jellal didn't stir, but Erza did. "Mm?"

Her eyes were still closed. Laxus didn't think she had any clue as to what was going on. "Come on, Red. Magic eight ball says you're in the Cardinal's sights and we want to take you back to the station."

Her eyes fluttered. She blinked at the lamp base in front of her, still mostly unaware.

"Erza."

The moment she found him would have been comical in any other situation. Her eyes rounded and her mouth came open and, as the cogs started to turn, Laxus watched realization overcome her. "Laxus?"

"I have some cops here to take you and your guard back to the station. Mira's there. She says the Cardinal has his eye on you."

"What?"

Jellal finally started to wake but fuck, he did _not_ look happy to be that way. Laxus got it. He wished _he_ could just lie down and sleep the coming hangover off. He took great joy out of blaming Ultear for his state simply because he wanted to blame _someone_ other than himself—it was her, after all, that told him to entertain his partner. "There isn't a lot of time to explain. Mira had a run in with the Cardinal."

She sat up and held the blankets around her middle. "The Taxi—"

"She never made it inside. She's okay," he added when the colour dropped from her face. "She's at the station making a statement. But she was told that they wanted her to get to you. So _you_ need to get up, get yourself back into that thing," he pointed to the scrap of white material on the floor, "And hop in that car that's waiting downstairs."

Jellal lifted his head and squinted at Laxus. "The fuck?"

"Cover your ass." Laxus took more pleasure out of Jellal's dishevelled state than he should have. Usually, the tables were turned. Jellal fumbled with the sheets. He and Erza fought over them. She mostly won but permitted Jellal to have a square.

"Yukino's out there?"

"She's going to go with you," Laxus said again, hoping that this time the information would stick.

Erza tipped her face to the ceiling and swore. She brought in a breath next and started to throw the sheets off. Laxus headed out the way he came, not nearly curious enough to stick around and get chewed out by his partner for looking.

Erza was faster than Laxus expected her to be. She stumbled out of the room and into the foyer where she tripped into her shoes, still drunk, but alert. "Mira's okay?"

Laxus watched her struggle. "Yeah. Just shaken up."

Erza looked at him through a curtain of red hair. "What happened?"

"The too long, didn't read version? Her lowlife brother lured her out there for the Cardinal and tried to make her leave with him. She didn't want to go."

"Her brother?" Erza's scowl was something to behold. "This is Kyouka's doing. When I find her—"

"You're going to step aside for the police, right?"

"Of course," delivered in that tone was code for, _'we take care of our own.'_ She softened that killer scowl when she petted Beau goodbye and opened the hallway door. Laxus caught her wrist before she could go anywhere and peeked around her. Yukino, Sawyer, and Rollin were still there, waiting. Erza pulled out of his grasp and ordered much as a queen might, "Take me to see Mira." He didn't even _bother_ telling her that it likely wasn't going to happen the way she wanted. As long as she was out and on her way _safely_ , she was no longer his problem. Let the others deal with the temper he saw lurking just beneath.

The door snapped closed. Laxus looked at it for several seconds but turned away when he heard Jellal crashing about. He followed the noise to the bedroom but wasn't able to step foot inside; Jellal, dressed now in a pair of briefs, pushed past him roughly and made a beeline for the washroom. Laxus leaned back against the wall while his partner parted with his tequila and said to the ceiling, "Ivan Dreyar is either fucking and dousing girls in holy water or he's helping to."

Jellal wretched again.

"He stole my station keys from Gramps and let Elfman out of jail." It was perfect for Elfman and thusly perfect for Tores. Ivan had been gone long enough from the police station that not many would recognize him while he was walking about but he was still familiar with it; not that much had changed over the ten years he'd been gone. "Then he wiped Elfman from the system." He told Jellal next about Mira and wasn't sure if Jellal was even listening.

The toilet flushed and the tap came on. Laxus listened to Jellal brush his teeth. When the door came open again, Jellal was red-eyed and tousled and _irritable._ "The fuck?" That seemed to be his favourite saying.

"Which part?"

"Your _father_?"

_Father._ Fuck, he hated that. Laxus pulled out his phone and dialed Mira's number on speaker phone. Half of him was nervous because the thought— _hoped_ — _feared_ —that Ivan would pick up and indeed, when it went to voicemail, his stomach churned because he thought, for an instant, that it was the real deal saying, _'The man that delivered Mirajane Strauss to her judgement would be absolved of any wrongdoing. Don't fear, on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned_.'

"That's your father?"

Laxus just looked at him. Jellal prosed, "What is that, scripture or something?"

"You're the one that lived in a fucking church for years, _you_ tell _me,_ " Laxus said.

"The Prayer wasn't much of a church."

"Closer than anything _I've_ ever been in," Laxus grumbled. "It doesn't matter _what_ it is. It's messed up."

Jellal scrubbed his hair, and then his face, trying to wake himself up. "Shit."

Laxus said, "IA's got people looking for Tores and Ivan. I told them everything I know."

"Good."

"Not good. My— _Ivan's_ —not going to let just anyone find him, and Tores can outsmart us all. They don't call him fucking Zero for _nothing_."

"I thought we said we didn't believe he's had zero unsolved cases?"

"I don't have anything to say differently," Laxus replied.

Jellal sighed. "So what now?"

"You get dressed and we start hunting our killer."

" _IA_ is doing that."

"Did we just have the same conversation?" Laxus snapped.

Jellal's glower was almost as good as Erza's. "Then what do you suggest?"

"We call him."

"Him?"

"Ivan. He didn't leave that message for nothing, man, he _wants_ us to find him." Laxus didn't feel with it enough to go through his contacts until he saw that skeptical look in his partner's eye. It had been a long time since he'd called his father but the number was still in his phone. He hadn't been able to part with it regardless of how messed up Ivan was.

"When was the last time you called your dad?"

"Ten years ago?"

Jellal swore. "The number is probably dead."

Laxus hit the phone button and his stomach did somersaults when it rang. It wasn't anything compared to how he felt when the phone was _answered_ and his father spoke.

"All of her idols will be smashed, all of her earnings will be burned with fire and all of her images I will make desolate, for she collected them from a harlot's earnings, and to the earnings of a harlot they will return."

The only thing Laxus could say was, "Where are you?"

"Did you fuck her before she came to me?"

Laxus was spinning, confused. "Who?"

"Somnium's _trophy_."

Erza. Laxus left Jellal in the hallway to twitch aside the bedroom curtain. The parking lot was empty; he knew it _would_ be. "Where _is_ she?"

"When he cleanses her, you, too, will be cleansed."

"Where the _fuck_ are you?" Laxus waited for an answer and only heard dial tone.

* * *

Erza sat behind the driver—Detective Sawyer—and leaned her head against the window. Streetlights blurred and looked duller with the slowly rising sun. It felt like it had been such a long, long night. Yukino sat beside her and did much the same.

"We'll be back at Somnium soon, _Tante_ ," she said when she caught Erza's eye. "We'll appease the police and let them think that they're doing something good and then we'll return to where it's safe."

"The station _is_ safe," Detective Rollin said.

"You had a man shot in your interrogation room just a few days ago," Yukino said. "That's a breach of security if I've ever heard one."

"And Kyouka sold Mira out to _Acnologia_ ," Erza said only to be contrary. "No where is safe."

" _Tante_ Erza is right."

Erza cringed at the name Sawyer gave her. The car made a left turn.

"Station's the other way," Rollin said.

Used to be, Erza was better at reading dangerous men. She blamed Jellal for her trusting attitude when she saw the black polymer of Sawyer's Glock 19 glimmer dully in a passing streetlight. Five shots let off in quick succession in such an enclosed space was _deafening._ Erza watched first Yukino jerk and spurt blood and then Rollin. Her hand was on her bag struggling to get her gun out when the car jerked to the left and screeched to a halt. She hit her head off the window and saw stars.

The back door opened before she could get her bearings and strong hands reached inside the car. Her bag was torn away from her and her seatbelt came undone. Erza came back to herself when a man was pulling her out and she lashed out. There were no brass knuckles to protect her hands this time. When she punched him in the face, he swore and she joined him because _fuck_ , that hurt. She kept going. It was hard from her vantage point; she didn't have much leverage. It was enough to get blood on her hands and she _relished_ in it. Next, she used her feet, kicking everywhere she could, the stomach, the groin, the leg.

"Stop." In the front seat, Sawyer's gun clicked beside her head. Erza didn't have _any_ room for fear. She shoved the gun aside and hit him, too. A hole was blown into the roof of the Tahoe. She was reaching for _his_ gun and had the nose in her hand when someone new grabbed her legs and hauled her out of the car. She hit the pavement hard and her legs scraped; her dress did little for protection. Erza swore and started to stand again.

Someone had a mean right hook. It caught her in the cheekbone and she fell back into black.

" _È meravigliosa, no_?"


	30. Chapter 30

Jellal felt Beau lean into his legs but only partially registered her. Most of his attention was snagged on Laxus twitching apart the curtains and yelling into his phone. His baritone voice reverberated throughout the small bedroom and Jellal felt shell-shocked. It was a shitty feeling. The room wouldn't stop reeling. If it wasn't the alcohol, it was what he'd pieced together through overhearing Laxus' phone call and whatever snippets he'd caught while he was in the bathroom regretting every choice he'd made since ten that evening.

_Hell, go big, Jellal_ , he thought bitterly and expanded his horizons to include taking this goddamn case.

Laxus was done with his conversation. He paced like an agitated bear and pounded another number into the keypad. It was so silent in the apartment, Jellal could hear the phone ring and ring and ring. It went to voicemail and a monotone woman's voice poured out. ' _Hi, you've reached Detective Tanna Rollin with the Magnolia Police Department_ —'

Laxus hung up before it could go any further and tried another number. This time, it was a man. ' _Hi, you've reached Detective Sawyer_ —'

Laxus swore colourfully and threw his phone with meaning. Jellal was almost hit. He didn't have the dexterity to move out of the way fast enough—it was pure dumb luck that kept him from having to get stitches. Laxus didn't apologize. He stood there and stared at the offending object on the ground by the closet for one second, two, three. Then he crossed the room with long steps and picked it up again, mashing the screen. It seemed it still worked but it didn't have what Laxus wanted.

"Do you have Erza's contact information?"

"Yeah," Jellal said and forced himself to ask the dreaded, "Why?"

"I fucked up." Laxus wouldn't meet his eye and Jellal thought he was going to puke again. Laxus Dreyar almost never admitted that he was wrong and when he did, he'd usually done something catastrophic.

"What do you mean, you fucked up?"

"I thought—IA. The Captain trusted them, man. I thought—" Laxus' forehead shone in the overhead light. He was stressed. He _always_ sweated when he was stressed. "I don't know what the fuck I thought. Call Erza."

"Did something happen?"

"Just call her," Laxus commanded.

Jellal felt like he was made of stone as he wandered to his pants on the floor and pulled out his phone. He was still in his underwear but he was too frazzled to care if Laxus cared that he was in his skivvies.

A myriad of missed calls greeted him when he lit up his phone, all of them from Laxus. He found Erza's number in his contacts and dialed it. It went to voicemail where Erza said a flippant, 'Leave a message.' She never wasted words. "It's Jellal, Erza. Call me."

"I don't think she's going to," Laxus said when he'd hung up. "Ivan said he had Somnium's prize."

It took some time for all of that to make sense to Jellal. When he _could_ , he said, "Erza isn't a prize." Maybe, if Ivan was made to understand that, he'd just give her back. Jellal knew how stupid that sounded. It was a fantasy at best. A dangerous one. The kind that got people killed.

Laxus didn't bother arguing. "We need to figure out where the Cardinal takes the girls."

"The Cardinal."

"The Cardinal has Erza, man, keep up."

"How?"

Laxus threw his hands in the air. "How doesn't matter. _Where_. _Where_ are they going?"

Jellal tried Erza's number one more time just to be sure. It went to voicemail again.

"Quit fucking around with that and think, otherwise it's going to be Erza next with a crown and wire holding her up."

Jellal didn't have to try very hard to imagine that. His tongue felt like lead. "We've been trying to figure that out for _days."_

Laxus was absolutely blunt. "And now we have an hour. Maybe, if he wants to toy with her a bit first."

Oh. Jellal's mind rejected the image it was trying to cultivate. "How are we supposed to figure out in less than an hour what we've been stewing over for days?" His voice was getting progressively louder the longer he had to process things. He breathed in through his nose and out of his mouth, wanting to puke, wanting to punch Laxus for being so fucking careless, wanting to berate himself some for ever letting Erza walk out of his apartment. It was _Tante_ Alba all over again. Jellal saw the thorns and her naked body and the contusions where the wire had been forced into her skin.

He was in the washroom again in record time. There wasn't much in his stomach. Over the sounds of his dry heaving, he heard Laxus on the phone and assumed he was speaking to the Captain.

Jellal flushed the toilet and brushed his teeth again. The happy drunk he'd been riding was destroyed and he had never felt worse. He splashed cold water on his face and that helped. Now he felt hungover and dehydrated and sick but drunk? Not anymore.

Jellal opened the bathroom door and was greeted by a Gatorade-holding-Laxus. He took the drink and slugged most of it back in one shot. He came up for air enough to ask, "Was that the Captain?"

Laxus huffed and ruffled the hair on his forehead. "Captain can't talk right now."

The way he said it had Jellal bracing for impact. "Why?"

"Because she was assaulted earlier tonight and left for dead by her pool. Meredy found her. They're in the hospital now."

Jellal was teleported back to the bar, to where the reporter on the TV stood out front of a well-to-do home. He'd never been to the Captain's house; his philosophy was to leave the vipers to the vipers but he was _sure_ that was hers on the TV. It was ludicrous to feel stupid for not recognizing it; Jellal couldn't help the shame that settled in his stomach like a cannonball. "Why attack her?"

"She figured out the goons in IA were dirty?" Laxus suggested. "Or Cardinal wanted to keep the cops busy while he carried out his coup de grâce? Hell, why not both?"

Jellal had a furious migraine growing. He swallowed some Gatorade and went looking for caffeine pills and Advil.

"I want to look at the photo of Laura Stone again," Laxus said in lieu of scolding him for his bad habits. "I think you're right, the answers are in it."

Jellal found the pants he was wearing at Somnium in a pile on the floor and fished the offending picture from the pocket. It was still as jarring now as it had been the _first_ time he'd seen it. Dead bodies were commonplace in his life but they were never so caringly mutilated.

"That doesn't get easier," Laxus murmured as he took the picture from the corners and studied it. Jellal looked over his shoulder and was again hit with its familiarity. He just _couldn't place where_.

"It's not Kardia Cathedral."

"No."

"And it's not the Prayer."

"No." Laxus looked at Jellal expectantly.

"I told you, I never spent much time in churches. If _Tante_ Alba ever took me to one, we'd be burned," Jellal said. "People _hated_ what she did with the Prayer."

Laxus swore. "The only time _I've_ ever been in a church is when my deadbeat dad married my mom when I was like, seven—" His eyes glazed over and just like that, Jellal placed the altar.

"There's a picture of it in your hallway. You, your dad and your grandpa," Jellal tripped into his pants as he spoke because he knew as soon as he finished, he'd be racing to keep up. Laxus didn't let him down, he was already making for the door. Jellal grabbed the first shirt he could—a wrinkled dress shirt he'd thrown to the ground at _some point_ during the week. He tried to be tidier but things just got away from him—and threw it over his shoulders. He took the seconds he would have normally used to button it to grab his pistol from the box inside his closet. He'd never shot at anyone with this particular gun but it's trigger wasn't stiff; it had been worked in at plenty of shooting ranges. The muzzle went into his shoulder holster after he'd donned the leather. His apartment door closed and Jellal had to run; Laxus had already grabbed his Charger's keys.

Jellal caught up with his partner at the elevator. Laxus barely noticed that Jellal had his boots in his hand or that he wasn't wearing socks, he was all business now that he had a destination. "We need to visit the armoury. Backup's out of the question, I don't know who to trust anymore."

Too bad he wasn't that suspicious an hour ago. Jellal reeled in the scathing remark that came to him so easily. They need to focus, not squabble.

"Erza's going to be alright," Laxus said just as the elevator arrived.

"Yeah," Jellal said because it felt like the right thing to say. He stepped into the elevator and started working on getting his boots on and while he did that, he brought to mind the first night he met Erza Scarlet. It was the first night he realized that beneath the smiles and the tequila and tear-you-apart looks that had made him mindless and careless and eager to think with his dick, she was cold, cold, cold. Efficient and no lamb. That's why _Tante_ Alba liked her so, though she brought the Prayer trouble. She was a girl beaten but she never laid down after she'd killed her abuser. She fought beyond the point of reason.

* * *

Cold brought Erza from strange dreams of red glitter. It felt good. She kept her eyes closed and marveled in the sensation. It travelled up her jaw and soothed some deep-seated ache in her head. The feeling was punctuated by fingers carding through her hair. That, too, felt good. Her mind took her to Jellal's apartment. She remembered pulling him into her in the elevator. She remembered stumbling into his apartment. She remembered Beau, and she remembered leading Jellal to the bedroom. Where she ( _do you want to_ ) kissed him. She started to smile and started to frown and couldn't decide what to do so she did neither. She did replay it in her mind, though. His hands under her dress, his breath on her cheek. Erza ( _do you want to_ ) kissed him again in her mind and tried to determine if she liked it.

She didn't _not._

"Open your eyes, _bella donna_."

Stiffness started in Erza's fingers and, like fast-motion ice stretching across a lake, she became trapped inside her own body. The kiss evaporated and the memory of a fist took its place. Everything came rushing back. Laxus, the car, the gun going off in her ear, and then being hauled out onto the pavement. As soon as the events replayed in her mind, her knuckles ached, as did the backs of her thighs and her jaw under the permeating cold. Her eyes came open and she focused on blue and white. The colours swirled together at first but Erza knew it was Acnologia, she could smell his expensive cologne.

" _Ciao_ , Erza. How are you feeling?"

She sat up too quickly, throwing the icepack that had been against her face aside, and was dizzy enough that she nearly threw up in Acnologia's lap on his expensive Armani suit and in his expensive leather shoes. She half wished she _would._

"Gently," he said in a soothing voice. "Your head isn't well." He touched her hair and moved it back so he could see her chin. Erza jerked out of his grasp, back into something hard and wooden. _A pew_ , she thought coldly, recognizing the bevelled edge in the wood.

"Don't." Her voice cracked and echoed off empty walls. _Church walls,_ Erza thought with disdain. _I'm in a church_. And not one she recognized. It was small and nearly windowless, save for one stained glass above the door behind her when she dared look over her shoulder and one in the ceiling. It looked more like a tomb.

_Or a killing ground_ , she thought numbly when her eyes focused on the altar behind Acnologia and all of the blood.

_God._

Acnologia was unperturbed. "Come now, don't be like that. I want this visit to be a pleasant one."

"You—the police officer driving—"

"Sawyer. Yes. He is one of the Superintendent's."

Erza's fingernails bit into the wood. She studied Acnologia close and planned her escape route. Her knuckles hurt, yes, but she thought that she could hit Acnologia hard enough that he'd be at least _temporarily_ incapacitated.

"I took your gun from you." His eyes never left hers. They were blue like cornflowers. Nice, actually, framed by dark lashes. This close, he was one of the most handsome men Erza had ever seen and she had seen a lot. His nose was straight and his jaw was defined and not clear of yesterday's stubble. His long, dark hair was pulled back and braided down his back and his short fingernails drummed out a beat on his knees. "I don't like removing a tiger's claws."

Erza paused her frantic plotting. "What?"

"Soon, my associate is going to tell me that I've spent enough time with _la piccola regina_ and I will have to leave and you'll be here, defenceless. It makes me ill. In my homeland, you kill a person with dignity if they've wronged you and never the women if you can avoid it. They are… _innocenti_ _."_

Erza went out on a limb. "Will you give me my gun back?"

He looked at her deadpan. "No."

She clenched her fists so tight, her nails bit into her palm. "You know you're going to die for this? Horribly."

"Perhaps. I will take the necessary precautions but I will not lose sleep over it. I do what I have to do to keep me and mine safe. Understand, I'm not a bad man," Acnologia claimed.

"You had me fooled," she said sarcastically.

"Mm. I see you're not amused. I understand, I, too, was confused. When this all started, I thought my sin was _apathy_ , Miss Scarlet. And as it's progressed, I find it's actually rage. I was promised Somnium. I was promised Zeref's head. All I had to do was _nothing._ And then I learn that not only can I not stomach this _affront_ , my only other ally is plotting my murder under the roof that she swore would be _mine._ "

"Kyouka."

"Yes. Kyouka. She tells beautiful lies but I see through them. Do you know how I know she'll betray me? Because Kyouka betrays herself. She is governed by greed and not by honour. She's hungry for power and none of the responsibility. She wants to destroy just to destroy."

"And what do you want to destroy for?" Erza asked because honestly, she couldn't see a difference.

"To rule, Erza, _il mio amore_. I continued this game because I want _power._ I want Zeref Dragneel _on his knees._ I want Eileen Belserion to share her success."

"She's better at doing this than you?" Erza asked with a wry smile. "No surprise."

"I won't be offended," Acnologia replied. "Women like her have…" He struggled with his words and fell back into his native tongue again. " _Passione_."

Erza tried to imagine how her mother would feel about the Black Dragon speaking so respectfully of her. "When she learns what you've done here… she'll never help you."

"She will because she'll be in my debt," Acnologia replied and tucked his hand into his pocket. When he came out again he set a switch blade on the pew at Erza's side. Covered in roses and choked in vines, it was as beautiful as its owner.

"You won't give me a gun but a knife is okay?" Erza asked.

"If you're unsuccessful, I'll have an easier time explaining why you may have a knife and not a gun. Women have many tricks and knives are easy to hide." Erza gripped the knife's handle. It was warm from Acnologia's skin. Acnologia held Erza's gaze well into the realms of discomfort. "When I first discovered the _diavolo_ , it was an accident. I walked past this small and condemned church and, on a whim, stopped to pay my respects at its stoop. It was then that I noticed that not only was the building abandoned after the Cathedral was built, but it had been _broken into_. The boards over the doorway had their nails peeled out and winter's snow had been trekked inside.I thought it was disgraceful."

"You walked in on one of the murders?"

His mouth twitched downward. "No. She was already dead. But I saw him resting a crown of thorns on her head for an audience. Two men and a woman. Most surprising wasn't finding them like that but how nonchalant it all was. The Cardinal lifted his head and looked into my eyes. It's strange how killers know they're in good company. He didn't pull the weapon I knew he had, nor did I. I left the way I came without a word between us. I went home and spoke to no one and that night, I had a visit from the Magnolia Police Department's Superintendent. He made me an offer I could not refuse. I would keep his secret, he would facilitate my climb to the top once more."

Erza turned the knife over in her fingers. "Have you given other girls a knife?"

"No."

"Why me?"

His mouth twitched again, this time into a smile. "I saw your mother's _passione_ in you. It would be such a shame if perversion snuffed it out."

At first, Erza was entertaining him while she bought herself time to _think_ but now she was honestly curious. "If I kill the Superintendent, what about your climb to the top?"

"Success is built upon connections. When you come out of this stronger than you were before, you will tell your mother who helped you."

"You presume an awful lot," Erza replied. "I might come for you next."

"Perhaps you will. Perhaps you won't. If you're thinking of revenge, however, I offer you this: Kyouka's location."

Erza hung off his words despite herself. "You know where she disappeared to."

"Yes. The knowledge can be yours if you remember who your friends are—if—you make it out of here to become _Tante._ "

Erza felt like she was caught in a whirlwind. She squeezed the knife again and pressed the button. The blade _snicked_ out. She watched Acnologia's face as she did it. He was wary of women with knives; good. All good men from across the eastern sea _were_. He did not move against her, however.

"The Cardinal will arrive soon, Erza. Will you be the rabbit in the headlights?"

"I told myself I'd never let another man touch me in a way I didn't want ever again."

Acnologia stood and straightened his pants and his cuffs. " _Buona fortuna_."

Erza watched his shoulder blades as he approached the ancient door leading to the street and told herself to sink the knife into his back. She debated with herself for so long that by the time she decided her best course of action, Acnologia was gone and so was the opportunity.

Voices leaked through the cracked church door, on the wings of the first rays of morning sunlight. Erza retracted the knife's blade and stuffed it beneath her leg, then she faced forward like a good parishioner and studied the altar caked with blood. How many people had died upon it? More than what the police were aware of? How did the Cardinal build up to killing women? Did he dream about it? Did he just wake up one day and decide that dreams weren't enough?

She waited for the door to creak open and the devil to walk through.

* * *

Beneath the station's rafters once more, Jellal lifted his gaze to the railing where the Captain always seemed to be standing whenever he cared to look. Of course, she wasn't there this morning, lying instead in a hospital bed at Magnolia General.

The station was a ghost town; somber on the lower floor and nearly empty on the upper. Even the parking lot was nearly vacant, almost every fleet vehicle gone from its spot.

"Go get the Tahoe keys. I'm going to check on Mira. Meet me back in the locker room. We'll get our vests and head over to the armoury," Laxus said lowly.

"Yeah." Jellal started toward the cubicles, leaving his partner by reception. The few people that occupied the station looked at him curiously. Only one was brave enough to stop him. Meredy stepped out of Ultear's office upstairs and saw him head down the hallway to the bullpen. She took the stairs two at a time in a blue skirt that whirled around her legs. She was still dressed up from the night before.

"Jellal! Wait!"

"Not now, Meredy."

"Yes, now. Hang _on_." She ran when her feet were on solid ground. Her heels slipped on the polished wooden floor and she almost twisted her ankle. She made a comeback and arrived at Jellal's side faster than he expected. She had him pulled into a small office off the hallway and the door closed just as quickly. The space was cramped and Meredy stood close enough that Jellal could smell the peach juice she'd been drinking earlier. "Did you hear about Ultear?" Her cheeks were high with colour and her eyes were glassy with as of yet unshed tears.

"She was attacked." Jellal hoped that Meredy wasn't going to burst the fragile bubble that was keeping him afloat by saying Ultear had succumbed to her injuries.

"In her home by a woman," Meredy said. "I was coming to pick her up—we were supposed to go out for dinner—and when I was coming up the driveway, I saw a strange car tearing out. I didn't get a good look at the person but we did a sketch anyway and we're looking for her."

Despite the _need_ to get moving again and get to Erza, Jellal asked, "What kind of car was it?"

"Lamborghini."

"Subtle," Jellal said.

"I know."

"There are only a few people in Magnolia that have that kind of money." Whoever tried to kill Ultear wasn't a professional—a professional would never have used their personal car, especially a car so easily recognized, and they would never have allowed Meredy to see them. Jellal didn't even think it likely that when they arrived at Ultear's home that evening that they had _planned_ on attacking her. It sounded like a crime of passion.

Meredy said, "That's what I thought, too, so while I was waiting for Ultear to come out of surgery, I took the liberty of putting together a list of potential suspects." Jellal eyed her. She shrugged. "I don't know them and I haven't talked to them, but most of the families with that kind of wealth have been in the news at _some_ point. You can learn a lot from watching people."

Jellal held out his hand.

Meredy fished a piece of folded and wrinkled napkin from her purse. She paused before giving it up. "Are you officially off of leave?"

"Yeah," Jellal lied and didn't even wonder if Meredy saw through it or not.

She said, "I'd like to talk to her when you find her."

Jellal didn't mistake her meaning: don't do anything rash. He assured her with less gloss and subterfuge. "I'll only use force if necessary but Meredy, Erza Scarlet was taken and I'm running out of time—"

"I know," Meredy said. "I heard Mirajane Strauss was in Interrogation. I think if you find Erza, you'll find Ultear's assailant, too. Ultear had a website pulled up on her phone, stating the regulations surrounding the bordellos."

It kept coming back to the bordellos. And, "The Cardinal."

"I think so."

"Does he just have a never ending supply of lunatics to do his dirty work?"

Meredy didn't grace him with an answer. "Good luck." She left the room first. Jellal was slower. He opened the napkin and looked at her list of suspects. There were only two names. Eileen Belserion and Kagura Mikazuchi. Without more information, he couldn't be sure, but he thought that whoever had shown up at the Captain's house had done so to gain the Captain's favour regarding the illegalization of bordellos once more. From there, he placed the pieces together. The Captain denied them and her assailant got violent. He didn't know much about Kagura Mikazuchi but he _did_ know some about Eileen Belserion. She wasn't a negotiator, true, and he believed her capable of this, but she would never have left Ultear alive and she would have never done the work herself. She had people to do it for her. Gildarts Clive would have shown up on Ultear's doorstep with an offer she couldn't refuse, or Angel. How difficult would it be to get a bill passed without the public support of the police department?

Jellal threw open the door and hurried to his desk. He'd deal with Erza first and then Kagura and then… he couldn't think beyond that. It sounded like plenty enough to keep him busy. Two steps in toward his desk and Jellal lifted his eyes from the floor just in time to come up short. Gildarts Clive blocked his way looking like an outsider in the station. No one questioned his presence, though they gave him a wide berth and eyed him and his lumpy and weathered trench coat.

" _Tante_ Erza was taken from your apartment. The vehicle that was supposed to bring her back here was found on Tollendale, flipped and on fire."

Jellal's hands were immediately sweaty and he felt sick all over again. He croaked, "Was she still inside?"

Gildarts shook his head. "There were two women in there still, one was Yukino and the other was one of the officers that were supposed to bring her in."

It felt wrong to feel relief but there it was anyway. "We think we know where to find her."

Gildarts looked surprised and Jellal was stupidly insulted. Pride could just wait until _after_ Erza was safe. "This way."

* * *

Laxus mounted the stairs two at a time. The elevator was in use and he was _impatient_. His lungs were tight by the time he made it to the correct level and he was hotter than he would have liked. Sweat was running down his temples again. He lifted the hem of his shirt and wiped his brow. It came away yellow. Who the fuck had time for white shirts?

Steps away, Interrogation's lights were on and Mira could be seen inside. She sat very erect as if perfect posture would make up for the way gravity was trying to tear her down. Laxus almost relaxed but he saw the man Rollin had sent in to take her statement and immediately decided that he didn't like him. His dark eyes were too beady, his face too hard, his hands lingered around the gun on his belt just a little too often. Using his keys, Laxus unlocked the Interrogation room without asking and burst in.

"This is a private—"

"Captain's orders," Laxus flung around. "Mirajane Strauss is being relocated."

The man moved stubbornly into Laxus' way. "Relocated?" This time, his hand didn't linger around his gun, they actually touched the handgrip and Laxus acted rashly. His knuckles still hurt from hitting Elfman and when he cracked them into the cop's face, his arm screamed all the way up into his shoulder. Mira yipped. Laxus watched his handiwork. The good thing about coldcocking a man was that he dropped like a sack of flour. Laxus pulled out the cuffs he'd hastily stopped to grab earlier when he'd gotten his gun and cinched them around the man's wrists.

"Fuck," Mira swore. "Why did you do that?"

Because he was an idiot and acted without thinking most times. Laxus didn't think Mira'd appreciate that answer. He looked at her over his shoulder. "Do you have somewhere safe to go?"

Mira's lip disappeared. "Did something happen?"

"Yes or no, Mira?"

"I don't know," she said. "Where is Erza?"

"She didn't make it to the station."

"Tell me what's going on."

"I don't have all the details yet," he said shortly and then added in what he hoped was a more assuring manner, "We know where to look for her. We're going to get her back."

Mira looked so horrified that Laxus couldn't hold her gaze anymore. He took out his phone and hesitated. Who the hell could he call to pick Mira up? His grandfather was out of the question; even if Laxus _did_ trust the old man to get over here and pick up Mira, what the hell was he going to drive? The Jeep was still sitting in _Be Frank's_ parking lot and as long as the windshield was fucked up, the Plymouth was out of the question. He scrolled through his contacts and lingered around Wendy. He almost pressed her name and then reason came through like a bolt of lightning. She was way too young to get tangled up in this shit.

A knock came, brisk and loud and startled Laxus so badly, he fumbled his phone. It fell to the ground and landed on the corner and the screen cracked _despite_ his Lifeproof case. "Motherfucker." It survived being thrown across Jellal's apartment but a four-foot drop to the ground and it fucking breaks?

"Laxus?"

Laxus picked up his phone and opened the door to Jellal and, more surprisingly, Gildarts Clive. "What's he doing here?"

"He's joining us," Jellal replied while he looked at the man crumpled on the floor.

Laxus didn't even have to think about his answer. "No."

"Then stay here."

Laxus didn't know that there was trouble in paradise until he was riding out the turbulence. But of course, Jellal was pissed about Erza. If the tables were turned, he'd be pissed, too. "I'm coming. It's my fuck up, I'm going to get her back."

Jellal's jaw flexed. "Then put your dick away. We have to go."

"Mira needs somewhere safe to stay."

Gildarts said, "Angel is out front in a car. She'll take Mira to Somnium."

"Somnium isn't _safe_ ," Laxus hissed.

Gildarts was intense when he was feeling prickly. He leaned into Laxus and said very, very clearly, "It's safer than this station. What happened with Kyouka will never happen again. Her followers are being weeded out with efficiency. You, on the other hand, don't even know which cops are crooked or where to begin fleshing them out."

"We're running out of time. I'll leave without either of you," Jellal said despite the fact that Laxus wasn't sure if he was sober enough yet to drive.

"He's shifty as fuck, Fernandez," Laxus said in a last-ditched effort.

Jellal wasn't listening. Gildarts, however, rose to defend himself. "Your grandfather trusts me."

"Gramps is as mad as a fucking hatter. He trusted my _father_."

Gildarts shook his head. "Not with anything important. Not with you."

"You don't get to make observations about my family drama."

"We're _wasting time_ ," Jellal snapped.

Gildarts sighed and, from a holster at his lower back, he produced a small gun and handed it butt-end first to Mira. "You can protect yourself if you don't like how you're being looked at. Let's move."

"You can't just—" Laxus sputtered. Mira reached around him and took the offered weapon less hesitantly than he suspected. "I just _took_ a fucking gun from her."

Gildarts ignored him. "Lisanna is waiting for you back at Somnium. She's…"

"Upset?" Mira offered. She put the gun in her purse and got to her feet. As soon as she started to move, Jellal started and they were navigating the near-empty hallways once more.

"Yeah," Gildarts agreed. "Upset. She was there when we got news about your brother and when she found out what happened to you..."

"News? About Elfman?" The words came out truncated. "What news?" Her eyes came to Laxus but he had nothing—he hadn't heard a peep though he'd asked to be kept apprised.

Gildarts' dark brows came together in the kindest expression Laxus had ever seen him wear. "He was gunned down on Bethesda. He's dead."

Mira tried to fall; Laxus caught her and mostly carried her. There was no time for consoling or tear-wiping even if he thought he knew _how_. Jellal had on an expression that screamed apathy and they had to move before he had a chance to let his thoughts make a vocal appearance.

At the bottom of the stairs, Laxus handed a dismayed Mira off to Gildarts and joined Jellal first at the lockers for vests and then in the armoury. They didn't talk as they loaded up on guns and bullets. Laxus made his body heavy with pistols and a shotgun and all of the appropriate munitions. He didn't ask Jellal for the keys so he was surprised when they came his way.

Outside, the rays of sunshine beaming through thick thunderheads were carmine, such an unnatural red that it gave Laxus chills. He turned his eyes from the clouds and focused on Gildarts standing beside their Tahoe. As soon as he was able, he climbed into the backseat, though Laxus didn't think he was used to it. Jellal took shotgun and Laxus got into the driver's. He had to adjust around all of his guns and fuck, it was uncomfortable. He figured that he wouldn't feel better until he was storming the little church where his parents had been married many years before, facing down the man that would rather burnout than fade away.

* * *

Erza felt her hair ruffle at her shoulders with the early morning breeze as the church's door was opened. She breathed deeply of stormy and dusty air and listened to the heels of expensive shoes rapping on the ancient floor. Hands closed on her shoulders and immediately took to her hair. Chills skated down her spine. Her breaths came evenly, though, as she thought, _I'm a war dog. I'm a war dog. I'm only happy when I have something to fight._

_Gods and men. Men who believe their gods. Men who are_

Touching her with dog rose. She still didn't move, even when she felt the crown lower and rest on her temples. Temperance. When it was time, she'd find his heart and strike true.


	31. Chapter 31

It was worse that the touch was gentle, Erza decided as her hair was combed out carefully. She wouldn't balk, though, not for anything. Not yet. Balking meant weakness and she would _not_ betray herself. When she thought it was becoming unbearable, she dug her fingernails into her palms and thought about the knife beneath her leg.

"Has anyone ever told you, you have beautiful hair?" Erza couldn't see his face but she recognized Mister Zero's voice. It was rough and held that note of perversion that had set off her warning bells the first time she had serviced him.

"Is that all you have to say to me?"

His cheek brushed hers as he leaned down. His breath smelled like mint gum. "Not at all. Are you afraid?"

"I've seen worse than you."

"You know, I'm glad to hear that because we're here to make a point, Erza, not to terrorize." His palms slid down Erza's arms and were rough with calluses. He was the kind of man that still _did_ things; age never slowed him down.

"I'm sure the girl's you've killed wouldn't feel the same."

His mouth touched her ear. "They served a greater purpose."

Erza let her finger slide toward the knife beneath her leg but paused when she heard the door open again and more feet trekked over the wooden floor.

"Cardinal Zero." The voice was thready and high.

Zero straightened but never took his hands from Erza's hair. "Back so soon, Kagura?"

"I made a mistake."

Zero's fingers cinched, preventing Erza from looking over her shoulder. "Tell me."

"I tried convincing Captain Mikovich to stand with you when you put forward the motion to illegalize prostitution like you asked, but she wouldn't listen." The woman came before Erza as she spoke so she could look at Zero and Erza had her suspicions confirmed.

"Kagura Mikazuchi." Erza didn't know her personally, not really, the only times she'd seen the woman was when her father, Haru Mikazuchi, hired Erza to accompany him to operas or functions he was required to attend on business. He was old and he was sweet and had never laid a finger on her. ' _Whore'_ wasn't in his vocabulary. In short, he was nothing like the girl that eyed Erza now with dangerous rage. Erza didn't let the look get to her. "You can't seriously be involved with this."

"Don't speak to me."

"Your father—"

"Is perverted by you and women like you, as is my brother."

"Perverted? We've only ever—"

"He makes you wear my mother's necklace!" Kagura screamed, cutting Erza off. Erza looked at her blankly. Men asked her to do innumerable peculiar things, was she to remember all of them? Apparently, ignorance was not the best response. Kagura's fury skyrocketed. "The rubies! The necklace he asks you to wear! Don't pretend like you've forgotten!"

It had been days and days since Erza had met with Mister Mikazuchi but with just a little prodding, she recalled the elaborate necklace he placed around her neck the night she'd beat Dan Andrews and left him to rot on the stoop to the Barrel's apartments.

Zero's fingers started working through Erza's hair again. "That's good, Kagura. If you could have channeled that rage, the next time your turn came around you might have been able to complete the task I gifted to you and proved yourself worthy."

"I'll do better next time, Cardinal. I won't be so afraid."

"That won't be necessary."

Kagura almost looked relieved at first, and then confused. "It won't?"

The door creaked open again. "What Cardinal Zero is too polite to say is that there won't be a next time, Kagura."

Erza didn't know the owner of that voice but when he came around the pew and stood before her, she thought she recognized the face. He had the same eyes as Laxus, the same straight nose, and square jaw. The cheekbones, too, high and sharp. The family resemblance was unmistakable and as soon as she was sure, Erza was shocked into silence.

"It won't happen again," Kagura said. "I was just surprised."

"So surprised that you left her alive and revealed yourself to the detectives," Zero said.

Kagura's cheeks flushed. "How do you know about that?"

"You were in _Be Frank's_. Almost every cop in the city that wasn't on duty was _there_ and in walks Kagura Mikazuchi, propositioning Jellal Fernandez. Did you think I _wouldn't_ learn of it?"

Her shamed blush deepened. "I thought bringing back a gift would help you forgive me. You've been looking for ways to get rid of them, haven't you?"

"If it worked then perhaps I could overlook this but the only thing you succeeded in doing was jeopardizing _everything_ we've worked so hard to achieve."

"Cardinal, please don't be angry. They didn't know anything," Kagura said. "I only asked if he was looking for company. He looked at me like _all_ men do and told me to leave."

Zero considered her words. "And the Captain?"

"Captain Mikovich... we can still take care of her. She's in the hospital guarded but no one will question you, Cardinal, not if you visit her."

Zero shook his head. "It won't be me that kills Ultear Mikovich. Unlike you, I'm not sloppy, I don't want this coming back to me in any way. While I do enjoy the thrill the extra challenge has supplied, I can't afford to be caught. Not to worry, though, Kagura Things are going well. By the time Ultear gets out of the hospital, you'll be pinned with the Cardinal murders and the suspicion will be off me. Think of it as a sacrifice for the greater good."

"Me?"

"You."

"But, Cardinal Zero—"

"Don't beg, Kagura. You're still getting what you wanted. Your brother and father will be freed from temptation," said the man resembling Laxus.

"Ivan is right, you'll get exactly what you wished for. You knew when you joined me that there would be sacrifices. We all agreed to do whatever it took. That's why Rahkeid is dead and that's why Ivan is on the run."

Her shoulders dropped. "Yes, Cardinal."

Erza was released. When Zero stood, he took his body heat with him and Erza could feel clearly the storm sneaking into the weather-worn church. The air temperature was dropping outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance; Erza jumped despite herself. Her anxiety only got worse as Zero pulled a gun from a holster she would have normally seen but was surprised by now. Erza didn't look at it and betray her calm; she knew the weapon wasn't meant for her, not yet. She only had eyes for Kagura, who only had eyes for the gun. Kagura watched it as an exhausted deer watched a wolf, seeing her end and resigning herself.

"Despite your fear, you've been most worthy, Kagura. We won't forget your contributions."

_She's really going to let herself get shot_ , Erza realized as Zero lifted his gun and aimed and Kagura did nothing. _She's really going to die for this._ She was insane. _And you're letting it happen._ Immobility belonged to a different Erza, one that ran away from her mother and went to nursing school because she couldn't deal with what her mother wanted her to be, one that fell in love with the wrong man and did nothing when he got rough. _This_ Erza lied to herself and repeated that she was afraid of nothing and no one, not even death, though she'd be _damned_ if she'd let some man fuck her and kill her and pose her like a puppet when that time came.

Erza moved quickly and reached beneath her leg. She didn't use the knife like a knife; she used it like a battering ram and jammed it hard into Mister Zero's eye just as the hammer of his gun clicked back. It did what she needed it to do; hot fluid leaked over her hand and Zero screamed and clapped his hands to his face. Erza shot to her feet and let instinct carry her. She was at Kagura in less than a second and grabbing her by the wrist. Ivan swore behind her and shot his gun. Erza expected to feel pain but the bullet wasn't aimed at her. Kagura faltered and Erza pulled her harder. There was a door in sight. She thought it should be an exit, the church wasn't _that_ big, but when she pushed it aside, it was an office decorated with sparse and mouldering furniture that the old priest had never bothered to take out. Couches were mouse-chewed now and books were swollen from dampness.

Erza knew that stepping foot into that room would be trapping herself but it was too late to go back so she went forward and slammed the door behind her and Kagura. Halfway up was a slide bolt latch like in a washroom. She jammed it over and moved out of the way just as Ivan threw his shoulder into the door. The whole frame shook. He reeled back and tried again. Miraculously, it held. Erza expected a third hit that never came. Silence lived and then both Ivan and Zero yelled back and forth. " _Don't shoot Erza. I want her alive,"_ and, _"I will if I have to, it doesn't matter how she dies."_

They weren't in agreement. Zero wanted it to be slow, Ivan wanted it _any way_ and Erza wanted it _not at all_. A bullet came through the door and disappeared _somewhere._ Erza might have screamed if she had breath to; it was knocked from her lungs as Kagura unexpectedly lashed out. Erza stumbled and hit the far wall and Kagura scrabbled for the door. Adrenaline and tenacity helped Erza stand and shake off the punch. Kagura's wrist was thin in hers but there was a lot of muscle, too—it wasn't _very_ easy to pull her back. Kagura spun and used her body weight to throw behind a punch that Erza ducked beneath. Kagura was momentarily off balance. Erza clasped both of her hands together and aimed at Kagura's temple. The knife did her a solid again and hit Kagura hard enough that she fell.

Erza didn't have the luxury of basking in her success, nor could she wonder if Kagura's bland scrabbling was actually going to _get_ her anywhere—she was down but not out. The door was hit again and the wood splintered. In preparation, Erza pressed the button on the knife's hilt and the blade came out. It was no gun but it would have to do.

* * *

"Tell us about this church," Gildarts said from the backseat, breaking the silence that had been riding with them for the last five minutes. It was so unexpected that it took Laxus a second to get his head out of the game where he thought of all the fucked up things that could be happening to Erza in that moment and registered that Gildarts was talking to him.

"It's been awhile."

"Anything you got."

"It wasn't code." Laxus put his foot down to make it through a yellow light. "There was only one entrance and exit, and no accessibility ramps. That's why they closed it when Kardia Cathedral was built."

"That's good for us," Jellal said.

"Yeah. It's also good for them, though. They only have to worry about watching one spot." Gildarts checked his guns as he spoke. Laxus divided his attention between the backseat and the road; there seemed to be an endless supply of weapons on the man.

"You have a permit for all those?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, kid, it makes you look stupid. What else you got?"

After a filthy look, Laxus said, "There used to be a hedge row of cedars on the north side. The parking lot was gravel. There were a couple of trees there, too. Oaks lining it."

"All sides?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Chances are they're watching for intruders. If it were me, I'd have someone high. I'll go in first and take care of it before they can raise the alarm."

"How are you going to do that?"

"A magician never tells." Gildarts grinned. He thought he was funny; Laxus was too stressed to find a shred of humor.

"Magicians don't get shit done."

"This one does. Give me three and follow."

"What if you fuck up?"

"I don't fuck up."

Laxus said, "Everyone fucks up, and if you do-"

" _Tante_ Eileen's already made her threats," Gildarts said. "And no offense, man, but you have nothing on her."

Laxus wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not. He slowed at a stop sign just enough to make sure that they weren't about to be ploughed and pulled out in front of a transport with hardly any room to spare. The Tahoe jerked forward when Laxus put his foot down and the V8 did well by them.

"Where are you going to put it?" Those were the first words Jellal had bothered to say in long minutes; he was busy sucking back on another Gatorade. He looked better for it, not half dead like he had, rushing to put his head in the toilet.

Laxus slowed and made a sharp right into a paper mill. "We're a block from here."

Gildarts had his door open before the car even stopped rolling. "See you boys in a minute." He was gone before Laxus could get a word in, moving north through the parking lot and then, like a wraith, he disappeared into the forest on the far edge and was gone. Laxus checked the dash. It was six forty-two. At six forty-four, he'd throw open his door and start to make his way to the church.

"There's a path through the woods. We'll take it and shave some time off." Laxus checked his weapons one more time and then his vest. Lastly, he pulled his helmet from beneath the back seat but didn't don it yet, he hated that piece of equipment most, for it was the most constricting.

"You don't think they'll be watching the woods?"

"It's not really a footpath," Laxus explained. "It's an animal trail." That he wasn't even sure existed anymore.

Jellal killed his Gatorade as the clock rolled to six forty-three. He dropped the bottle to the floor. "I'll take point and—"

" _I'll_ take point," Laxus spoke over him.

"Your dad—"

"It's fine." That nervousness in his gut was just the usual sort of nerves, he hoped.

"He's your dad."

"Doesn't matter if we're related or not."

"It matters." Jellal's two cents weren't welcomed. Laxus gave him a dirty look that he ignored. "I'll take point. You grabbed a flashbang grenade?"

Jellal didn't leave much room for argument. Laxus expelled his breath. "Yeah."

Jellal held out his hand expectantly and Laxus went digging for it. The cylinder filled Jellal's palm and Laxus almost took it back. "We could get in big shit for this, eh?"

"You're worried about this now?"

"I just want to make sure you know," Laxus said unnecessarily. He was sure Jellal understood the repercussions more than anyone. They were both rogue now.

"If we don't fuck up, people will thank us." Jellal grabbed his own helmet from the back and crammed it on his head, then threw his door open. The clock struck six forty-four and Laxus grabbed his shotgun and rushed to keep up.

The good thing about this part of the city was that it was virtually abandoned. Some of the locals affectionately called it 'Dead Town' and it was easy to see why. A fire had decimated the south side of the street three years after the paper mill closed and shop owners moved slowly, one by one, into the heart of Magnolia, where the rent was high and the customers were three deep.

Here, you'd see the occasional vape shop, an auto wrecker, and a convenience store to service the sparse residential population, but it wasn't anything like it used to be, if Makarov Dreyar was to be believed.

Laxus used long steps to keep up with a faster Jellal, simultaneously _looking_ at their surroundings and _not._ Checking for anyone watching as he moved but not allowing himself to get tangled up in the hazy familiarity he felt racing through the paper mill's parking lot. It had been abandoned nearly as long as he'd been alive and not much had changed. Sure, the weeds growing through the cracks in the pavement were a little taller, a little knottier, and there was more spray-paint on the building now, not just a yellow dragon that had lost its luminescence as Laxus got older (he still thought it looked good, maybe he'd missed his artistic calling) but nothing was drastically _different._ The building still stood and, when they got closer to the forest, Laxus saw that the path still existed. It was smaller now than when he was young, more fitting for a fox than a man. That didn't slow Jellal and thusly, didn't slow Laxus. He crammed his helmet on his head and did up the under chin strap and then crashed through.

Branches swiped at his face. Like Jellal ahead of him, he pulled down the shield on his helmet and put his head down. Beneath his feet, roots from ancient cedars and younger aspens tried to trip him. Laxus picked up his feet and shouldered the shotgun, too, just in case. The edge of the forest was approaching and who knew if Gildarts was _actually_ going to be able to subdue any lookouts or if he'd just warn the whole gang of their arrival because _criminals take care of their own._

Jellal slowed his steps and lingered at the edge of the forest. Laxus came up behind him and peeked through the trees. It had been a long time since he'd been in this area. It was where his mother was buried and it was where she'd been married and he _should_ have visited her grave once in the last ten years. He told himself it was _time_ that kept him from her _,_ but really, he didn't have the stomach for it because anytime he _thought_ about going, he thought about his father and the times _before_ he came home wasted enough to put a bullet in Laxus' shoulder, when they'd come out here together. Those were cold days within the first six months of her death. They'd shiver on the snow-encrusted ground and stare at a tombstone that wouldn't _do_ anything. Sometimes Ivan would impatiently swipe the back of his hand beneath his eyes. Sometimes he'd get so angry, he'd take it out on Laxus.

It was almost a _relief_ when drugs took the place of grave watching.

Twenty meters away, nestled in the confines of dead and yellowed wheat and rye and rattlesnake grasses gone wild, the church stood, again, not exactly as Laxus remembered it. Was there always more stucco than brick on the walls? Was the pathway always so crooked? What he did know for sure was that there were more trees around it now. Small pin cherries and a couple of Manitobas that grew faster and larger than anything else, right close to the building. There were no buds yet to obscure the view of the church, but there weren't really any windows for them to be spotted out of. It was easy to see where the church's blind spots were and Jellal began moving without any prodding from Laxus, tearing through the bush both quickly and quietly. His gun was in his hand already; Laxus squeezed the shotgun's grip hard and followed.

Over their heads, thunder rolled out one long, deep song and made the hairs on Laxus' neck erect. The wind was picking up next and the first raindrops had fallen through the branches and cedar leaves to land on Laxus' bare arms. In seconds, it was pouring enough that it was hard to see and Laxus wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not; it would cover their movements but it was shitty—it also hindered their vision.

There was a spot in the trees that looked out upon the church's eastern wall. Laxus lifted his eyes to the roof and saw the edge of Gildarts' trench coat as he descended once more. If Laxus bothered to check, the time would be six forty-five, he was sure. He searched and searched the roof against the sky before moving out and finally saw what he was looking for: a lump of clothing that used to be a standing man. Was he dead? Did it _matter_?

Jellal looked over his shoulder and signaled that they moved out. It was _hard_ lagging behind while Jellal crouched low and moved quickly through the grass to get into the position _Laxus_ wanted to be in, beside the church door with his back against the wall and his gun pointed to the sky, but a small voice in Laxus' head told him that Jellal was right—he shouldn't have point. He had too much of his father in him. He was brash and prone to bad decisions when he was furious and bad decisions would get people killed.

Like the trees, soggy dead grass whipped against Laxus' skin. He kept himself low and kept his breathing even as he hustled to Jellal's position. He heard steps behind him and tensed but kept moving, sure that it was Gildarts when Jellal glanced his way and did nothing. Laxus was able to join Jellal in seconds and put his back against the wall, too. Gildarts copied his movements. He was breathing a little heavier and there was rain soaking his auburn hair, but all in all, the older man looked like he was ready to go again.

Jellal made eye contact with Laxus and they shared a silent conversation, the nuances announced with hand gestures, at the end of which, Jellal stood and peeked through the only window above the door. Laxus watched him assess the situation and catalog everything in that _way_ he had. The only thing that was missing was the detachment he usually exuded when it was time to get down to brass tacks. There was an intense look in his eye and Laxus realized that letting Jellal take point had been a mistake. Erza was in there and _Tante_ Alba had died by the Cardinal and the only thing Jellal looked like he wanted was revenge.

Voices came through the door to Laxus' ears, both he recognized. It seemed Jellal, too, recognized them. He grabbed the door handle without relaying what he'd seen and Laxus had his suspicions confirmed. Jellal had checked out. There wasn't any time to grab his partner and salvage what he could, he could only follow Jellal's lead and hope that they weren't both about to get shot up.

Jellal pulled the flashbang grenade and yanked the pin then pushed down the brass handle on the church door. It squealed as it opened and the voices got louder. The Superintendent was clear, but it was Ivan that Laxus focused on. _'It doesn't fucking_ matter how _she dies_. _Do what you want to her_ afterward. _'_ The bullets began to fly and Jellal lobbed the grenade. He slammed the door closed again and crouched down. Laxus waited impatiently with his hands over his helmet and thusly over his ears. It took seconds that felt like minutes for the percussive burst to rattle the foundation of the church and for the light to explode out of every possible cranny. Silence _would_ have followed the assault but Jellal was moving well before Laxus could even think to stand. He went in and went right.

"Cover us," Laxus told Gildarts and went in after his partner without waiting for a response. He took in everything he could before ducking for cover behind an ancient maple carved pew. Jellal was opposite him, crouching behind his own pew, there were two others at the front of the church. One was sloppily getting themselves behind a pew, the other aimed blindly with a gun, stumbling to get their balance and blinking to make their eyes clear. Ivan Dreyar had changed much over the years. His hair was still mostly auburn streaked with blonde and grey but his skin belied his age and the abuse he'd given his body. Wrinkled and sallow and tough like leather. He was slower to respond than Tores had been and took to cover when he discovered that he couldn't aim properly, not while he was stumbling like he was drunk from the intense blast.

Laxus trained his gaze on the pew that hid his father and trusted that Jellal watched the other where Tores was. He waited five seconds, ten, to give them a chance to listen and obey, and then said loudly, "Drop your weapons and get on the ground, hands on top of your head!"

"Congratulations on finding us, Laxus. I thought my son would be clever enough."

Getting puke in his shoes would be better than getting praise from his father. "Put your weapon down and slide it into the aisle, then _put your hands on your head_ and _get on the ground_."

"Not while there's still work to be done."

Laxus squeezed the grip on his gun and shared a look with Jellal. His partner signalled that he was going to fall back to get a better vantage point but before he could move, a door at the back of the church opened. All eyes turned that way as a bloody Kagura Mikazuchi tried to stagger out. She was grabbed around the waist and dragged back inside by Erza—Laxus couldn't see her face to confirm her identity but there was only one other woman that had hair like that in all of Magnolia and as far as he knew, she was in Somnium, doing whatever it was that women of her caliber and clout did when their daughters were kidnapped and plotted against.

Jellal had seen what Laxus did and like an idiot, he poked his head above the pew to get a better look. Ivan was just as much of a bastard these days as he'd been in years past. The first bullet to leave a gun belonged to him. From there on out was pandemonium.


	32. Chapter 32

Instinct had Jellal throwing himself back to the ground. He didn't need Laxus telling him how stupid he was for peeking over the pew, he knew all on his own. Luck was on his side—everyone was still feeling the effects of the flashbang grenade and the shots that were flying were going wild. A wild bullet was still a dangerous one, though, as Laxus proved. Jellal wasn't sure at first, the only indication he had that Laxus was shot was his awkward fall back behind the pew after shooting over the top with his handgun rather than the shotgun. It took a few seconds for Jellal to see blood.

"Fuck."

"I'm good," Laxus said over the sound of fire and tapped his forearm just below his elbow where he'd been grazed. It could have definitely been worse. Despite that, Jellal wasn't convinced of how great his aim was going to be when Laxus set aside the handgun and took up the shotgun.

"Pass it over." The floor between them had a huge chunk bitten out by a bullet when Jellal waved Laxus on. Laxus ignored him so Jellal signed in case he didn't hear over the sounds of gunfire. Laxus was still immobile. He tried again, louder. "Pass it over!"

"No." That one word was suddenly loud; the shooting had abruptly stopped. Jellal figured it was because they were out of bullets but when he poked his head out to check again, he realized that it was something much worse. Tores had found a new toy hidden beneath the pew he crouched behind. The MP5's metal twinkled in the light that poured in through the stained glass window over the door, orange and blue and green and red and then the shooting began anew.

With each loud pop, the church shook alarmingly. Wood was chewed through and bits went flying through the air. Dust choked Jellal with every breath he sucked in. Bullets swept left and right, hitting Laxus' side first. Jellal ducked low and held on to both his breath and his luck because Gildarts was shooting behind them, too, with first his Desert Eagle and then with something that fired a little more rapidly when he'd exhausted his clip. Jellal could feel the bullets whiz by dangerously close. Gildarts wasn't nearly as careful as he would have liked him to be.

Below the sounds of Tores' shots, Jellal heard a dreaded _click, click, click_ and knew that Gildarts' gun had jammed. Just when it seemed like things were at their worst and they weren't going to get much better, they ran aground some luck. Tores' gun ran out of bullets and everything was unearthly quiet except for the _snicking_ of Tores parting with his old clip and getting a new one. Jellal took the opportunity he was granted and popped up long enough to let out a few shots. He knew he got his mark because the Super dropped his gun and fell back. It was too early to cheer. Ivan made a mad dash for it and picked it up again. He only had to jam the clip in place and he was ready to fire. Jellal took cover but Laxus saw what was happening and lifted himself up enough to use the back of the pew as a stabilizer for his gun's butt.

Shooting at his son slowed his finger not at all; Ivan's bullets chomped through the already ruined pew without discrimination. Laxus got a shot off before he was hit in the middle and was thrown off balance. Ivan staggered and clutched his chest but didn't drop the gun, that came when his knee was exploded by a bullet that came from the doorway.

Jellal wheezed in breath after breath of smoky air. He wanted to relax but there were still things to do. "Hit?" he asked of a downed and green looking Laxus.

Laxus was winded when he said, "Just my vest."

Which was exactly what Jellal wanted to hear. "I'm going after Erza."

"I'll take care of these guys." Jellal looked over his shoulder and saw Gildarts hobbling their way with his shoulder slowly bleeding.

"No," Laxus growled and got painstakingly to his feet. "You get the fuck out and call an ambulance." He wobbled to his father and first kicked away the guns and then dropped to his knees and applied pressure to Ivan's bleeding chest.

"Might just be best to let nature take its course," Gildarts murmured.

Though he might have agreed, Jellal knew better than to be vocal about it. "Make the call." He went to a bleeding and wincing Tores and did a quick sweep for guns. He found a spare in Tores' belt but that was it. It went into his pocket and he left Tores there with a very large shoulder wound that wept every time his heart beat. Whatever Gildarts was using in that gun was large enough that no shot was a bad shot.

Jellal moved on with his gun in hand and put his back against the wall. From there he listened through the door Kagura had opened and heard scuffling and cursing. Erza, mostly, saying, "Stop it. You're shot," and Kagura spitting venom. Jellal threw open the door and peeked around the jam. There was a window behind an ancient desk and Kagura was attempting to climb through it. Erza had her by the legs and was just shy of reefing her in. Jellal saw the bloody handprints on the window frame and thought he understood. Kagura was hurt and Erza didn't want to do any more damage. Jellal wasn't feeling as generous. He shoved his gun into his holster and hurried across the room. Just as Kagura kicked Erza hard and broke free, Jellal grabbed her leg and yanked. She screamed when her knee twisted weird and she fell back inside. "Son of a bitch."

"You're under arrest," Jellal said without much concern for her wellbeing. As Gildarts said, sometimes it was best to let nature take its course. It was both a shame and a blessing that Erza was there as a witness.

* * *

Laxus had a cigarette in his mouth and was sucking it back without using his hands; they were still stained with Ivan's blood and to see it made him feel queasy for reasons he expected and reasons that were a surprise. While he watched the cherry burn, he told himself that after today, he'd quit again, no excuses. For now, he was thankful for the way the acrid smoke filled his lungs and burned coming in but was smooth going out. There wasn't anything else like it.

An ambulance's lights flashed red and white, red and white, and an EMT kept firstly trying to check Laxus out and when he refused, gave him filthy looks that were supposed to shame him into compliance. Nothing could touch him, not after first finding out that his father was involved in ritualistic murders and then trying to stopper the hole he'd left in his chest. Except maybe Gildarts, Laxus thought, as the man came over and wrapped his arm around Laxus' shoulder, drawing him a short distance away to a spot where the oaks were thick and their bases were overrun by pin cherries. There, in a low voice, Gildarts said, "Good work this morning, kid." Laxus said nothing. Gildarts followed up with, "But you could have killed him. You had the shot—no one would have blamed you."

"Then I wouldn't be any different than my old man, would I?"

Gildarts gave Laxus a smile that Laxus didn't want or need. "Guess not."

"He might still die." Laxus waited to feel bad about that and wasn't disappointed. The knowledge was like getting shot in the chest all over again. He felt sort of sick.

"That's in the hospital's hands now. Don't feel bad. Ivan was a rotten apple after your mother died. Men like him don't want anyone to care about anymore and they don't want to be saved."

"No, they don't." Family was a festering wound. Laxus got out of Gildarts' hold and congratulated himself when he didn't wince and blanch because moving after being shot with a semi-automatic weapon, even just a couple times, was _agony._ He wished Jellal would stop getting off scot-free. "Are you going to go into the station all on your own, nice and quiet?"

Gildarts' mouth quirked. "Why would I? I was just an innocent bystander that called the ambulance. Mister Anonymous."

"The church was shot up. Those rounds—"

"Won't get catalogued. And if you don't say anything, I'm still just Mister Anonymous."

Laxus glanced back toward the church and wondered which one of the technicians were on Eileen's payroll. All of them? By the time he turned back to ask, Gildarts was gone. Laxus couldn't even catch a glimpse of his dark coat swirling around a corner or a bumper of a car. He was a ghost. "Sonofabitch."

Now what? Lie and not mention Gildarts at all, trusting that the technicians would take care of things? Put Gildarts in the report anyway? Mention him covertly to Captain Mikovich when she was out of the hospital?

Those thoughts left his mind as he watched Kagura Mikizuchi, Ivan Dreyar, and Superintendent Tores get loaded into their own respective ambulances. Laxus was sure they'd make it to the hospital, there were too many reporters pushing at the barriers and too many eyes for any slipups. He dug out his Tahoe keys anyway and motioned to Jellal who crowded the back of the ambulance Erza sat upon. Jellal looked reluctant but nodded. He said something else to Red and then he was following. They didn't get very far. At the Tahoe's doors waited the Spider herself, dressed as homely as Laxus imagined she ever would. She still looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine in her designer slacks and fitted between-seasons coat.

She said, "Detectives," but she only had eyes for Jellal. "May I see my daughter?"

Jellal looked back to where Erza watched them. "Sure, but you can't take her home. She has to go back to the station to make a statement."

"Yes, I figured. And you'll take us?"

Jellal said, "I have work to finish up here—"

"So finish. We'll wait."

" _Tante—"_

"After the last time she didn't make it there, you understand if I'm a little apprehensive," _Tante_ Eileen said.

Laxus breathed through his nose. They didn't have time for this. The ambulances that were taking Tores away were already moving and so was their escort. "Find a car, Fernandez, and take Erza. I'll follow these guys to the hospital."

Jellal put up a disappointing amount of resistance. Laxus found his keys. The EMT that had been nagging at him saw that he was about to climb into his vehicle and drive away. She started to chase after him and Laxus called to her, "I'm on my way to the hospital right now."

She yelled back something about him driving. Laxus pretended he didn't hear her and dropped himself awkwardly and painfully into the car. Parting with his bulletproof vest had helped take some of the pain away but he was still very much aware that he'd been shot and it was one of the most painful things he'd ever experienced.

* * *

The stench of harsh chemical filled Laxus' nose and the wall behind his back was hard like only a hospital's could be. Each time he shuffled impatiently, his breath came a bit shorter for the pain. His ribs were cracked and he was not so politely told by acting Superintendent Lahar that he'd be off field duty for an undetermined amount of time. Laxus didn't mind that much—not that he'd ever say so aloud—there was no shortage of things to do. He had a pile of paperwork, a slew of court dates soon, he was sure, an Inquiry that he couldn't get out of unless he used cash and bought a boat ticket to the artic and told no one of his plans. Which was damn near tempting after he'd left his grandfather in the emergency room while Ivan underwent surgery and hadn't looked back.

Tores was in better health, missing an eye and sporting an obliterated shoulder. If the shot was just a little bit lower... Laxus wasn't sure how he felt about it. Good because now they could get some answers and Tores could spend some time rotting in a cell. Bad because he was going to live out his life in his cell while his victims rotted in the ground, unable to see what else life had in store for them.

Jellal rounded the corner and demolished any rogue and violent thoughts Laxus had, serving as a reminder that he was a cop first. He wasn't like Gildarts, taking care of his own.

"Is he awake?"

"Yeah," Laxus said. "Waiting for us, no doubt. Did you get Erza taken care of?"

"She got checked out and I brought her and her mother to the station," Jellal said vaguely. "She's waiting to have her statement taken but she wants it to be by us, so let's hurry this along."

The way he said it prompted Laxus to ask, " _She_ wants it to be?"

Jellal's raised-brow look said it all. "Come on." He went rooting through his pocket and brought out a recorder. Seeing that piece of familiar equipment on his partner made Laxus feel that almost everything was right in the world again. Jellal had put away his crazy. For the time being at least.

Tores was staring listlessly at the ceiling when they entered and didn't move, not even when Jellal grabbed a chair and put it at his head. Laxus stood beside his partner. It was easier that way; he couldn't sit down and get up on his own. Jellal gave him a look but didn't push it.

Tores didn't look at them while he spoke. "Are you here for my statement?"

Jellal waggled his recorder. "You got it."

"I'll talk and you'll get everything you want to know."

"Gee, Super," Laxus mused. "Is that the morphine making you so cooperative?"

"No, Detective, that's just my good nature. I have concessions."

Jellal's jaw flexed and Laxus realized that he was wrong again, not _everything_ was right because he was stuck doing damage control. "I don't know if you know this or not, but you're not in much of a position to be toting concessions."

"You want to know who I trusted in the police department?"

That changed things. "You'll give us those names?"

"For a promise that I'll be kept in solitary confinement at Crocus Penitentiary."

Laxus chewed his cheek. "I can't make promises like that."

"You can. Get it in writing or I'll never talk. I'll take those names with me to my grave and in a couple months, my followers will continue my work. They all believe in the cause. It'll be hard topping the final kill, _Tante_ Alba was a jewel of sin, but I'm sure that there will be more wicked women to take her place. I hear Somnium has a new, rising star."

Laxus barely had enough time to grab Jellal and prevent him from drawing his gun. Jellal fought with him and almost got around Laxus' grip because moving made Laxus feel nauseous but last second, Laxus sucked up the pain and threw Jellal back down in his seat. He stripped Jellal of his gun and pulled him up again.

"Get out."

Jellal didn't fight. He dropped his recorder to the ground and stormed from the room; Laxus hoped that it wasn't to get another gun.

"Has Detective Fernandez always been so high strung?"

Laxus rested his hands on the back of the chair Jellal had been sitting in. "Nah, Jellal's cool as a cucumber. You just have that effect on people."

"Weak people. His sentiment for the mother of whores is his undoing."

"You're lucky Jellal's not in here, Super, and that I've got his gun. Sooner or later, though, you're going to be in the right place at the right time with the right person you've crossed and you won't have that buffer."

"If you're trying to scare me, Detective, you'll have to try harder. I've thought long and hard about my actions and I'm at peace with myself. I've committed no wrongs."

Laxus' gun felt heavy on his hip. He knew it would only weigh heavier in his hands.

"Are you going to get that document drawn up, Detective, or am I going to take this secret with me to prison? As you said, how long do you think it'll be before one of the inmates gets wind of my actions and decides that they're the hand of justice? After all, you're not as morally ambiguous as some of those other men and yet you're thinking about shooting me, aren't you?"

"I'll get on the phone, see what I can do," Laxus grudgingly conceded. "But like I said, no promises."

Tores just went back to staring at the ceiling. Laxus dug out his phone and went to the hall.

* * *

When Erza saw Jellal at the station, he wore a look she'd never seen him in before. Just when she convinced herself that he wasn't a violent man, he found a new mask that made her apprehensive. He saw her and softened around the edges and her mother said nothing at all so Erza was able to stumble over it. She gave her statement and then gave it twice more. She didn't incriminate Acnologia, she didn't think, but she didn't leave him anonymous, either, stating that he was there and that he'd given her a knife to defend herself. Acnologia was called in afterward and looked at Erza long and hard as he was led passed her Interrogation room. There was a lot of waiting afterward because not only did Eileen insist that Jellal do the questioning, she demanded that it was he that took them back to Somnium when he was done questioning Acnologia.

Two and a half hours passed before Erza saw him again. He looked annoyed and tired but he was never short as he brought them downstairs and stuffed them into his Tahoe.

"What will happen to Acnologia?" Eileen asked along the way.

Jellal remained looking at the road. "He claims he was in the wrong place at the right time and left because he feared for his life. There was a call to the station made from his cell phone; he says he did everything he could to get you out of there, Erza."

"He's a liar," Eileen said.

Jellal didn't comment.

Erza pressed her cheek to the window and watched the world whirl past. She didn't suspect that Acnologia would ever allow himself to fall because he given a girl a knife. "What happened to Yukino?"

Eileen said, "We don't need to discuss that right now."

"She's dead?"

The quietness spoke volumes.

"What about Kagura?"

"What about Kagura?" Eileen asked sharply.

"What happened to her?"

"You shouldn't waste your worries with such trivial trash. Kagura Mikazuchi will get what's owed to her."

Jellal's eyes flicked up and met Eileen's through the rearview mirror. Despite the pointed look, he surprisingly had nothing to say on the matter.

"So she's alive?"

Eileen's fingers closed on Erza's knee, strong and warm. "You don't have to worry about her."

She wasn't, not necessarily. She wasn't scared, anyway. She did think about Haru Mikazuchi, though, and how he only wanted company, and how that little bit of company and not very much information drove Kagura to the brink of deranged. It made her sad and it made her angry. It also hardened her resolve in a direction she didn't expect it to be hardened toward.

In Somnium's driveway, Jellal pulled the Tahoe right up to the door and tried to follow them inside. Eileen caught his arm and spoke candidly. "I need time with my daughter, Detective, alone. She's safe here." Jellal looked at a loss for what to do with himself and Eileen asked, "Don't you have statements to take? People to arrest? From what I understand, the Cardinal had a large flock."

Jellal looked past Eileen and focused on Erza. "Can I see you after?"

"I'll call," Erza heard herself say and only thought herself partially a fool after seeing the expression he wore when he first arrived at the station. Jellal seemed mostly satisfied and climbed back into his SUV. Erza turned away from the accelerating car and entered Somnium. Only two people filled its innards as far as Erza could see: Angel sat at the bar with her arm wrapped around Lisanna's shoulders. Lisanna lifted her gaze and looked at Erza with eyes that could have been dead.

Erza started to ask what was wrong; her mother took her elbow and guided her toward the back of the bar, making that impossible. "This way."

The _Tante's_ office was as uptown-grunge as the rest of Somnium. Its wooden floors were scratched and scuffed but clean and polished, the furniture belonged to a different time, handmade of real wood, not the cheap particle board stuff that modern furniture was so often crafted from. On the walls were original paintings from local artists and in the bookshelf in front of innumerable books with cracked spines were metal sculptures of peculiar beasts. Erza had long known that they were serpents, dragons or snakes or lizards, though? Her mother would never say.

Tired now that her adrenaline had a chance to fade, she put herself on the leather couch and rested her head on her crossed arms. "What's happened to Lisanna?"

"Elfman is dead," Eileen responded.

Erza wasn't entirely surprised, she'd seen a lot of people in Elfman's position come and go in the years she'd lived in Somnium. Some were buried in the ground, others were taken out to farms and burned to nothing in incinerators. "And Mira?"

"Angel brought her back here. She's in her room, safe."

Erza started to rise and Eileen shook her head. "You can see her after. Let's talk about Acnologia."

Erza let her muscles relax. "What about him?"

"You omitted things in your statement. He was more involved than you let on."

Erza didn't say either way.

Eileen said, "If it was anyone else, I would let his involvement slide, considering all he did was hide like a coward when he should have had some dignity, but as Somnium's new Matriarch, I'll let you decide what becomes of him."

_Somnium's new Matriarch._ Erza set aside the issue of Acnologia and asked, "What does that mean, I'm the new Matriarch? Am I in Kyouka's position, where I sit pretty and smile, be the face of the public while you run everything from this room and your stage?"

Eileen didn't try to lure her in with words of promise. "We'll try it that way at first. If it works and you have a knack for it, Erza, then yes. You can take my place completely."

"That's trusting _and_ generous."

She smiled and her matte crimson lipstick looked like the colour was crushed straight from the petal it mimicked. "You're my daughter. I know what to expect."

"Does Mira's agreement still stand? She still has Somnium's protection from Acnologia and Zeref?"

"For as long as you are _Tante_ and for as long as you want her to."

"I don't like it when you blackmail me."

Eileen's fingernails matched her lips in colour. She drummed them on the table and the crimson danced. "It's truth, not blackmail."

"I suppose that depends on where you're sitting."

"Are you going to try nursing again?"

The question caught Erza off guard so she gave the most honest answer. "I don't think anyone would hire me."

"And the escort business has an expiration. And it's limiting for… private relationships."

Erza thought of Jellal. "He's never told me not to do what I'm doing."

Her mother was a cutter and her favourite thing to slice through was bullshit. "No. But if he falls in love with you, it would cheapen the experience."

"Nobody said a thing about love."

"No one ever does. Just try things my way for awhile, Erza. If you don't like it, I'll find you a job at a hospital and you can do that—I have a few friends in such places. Or, if nursing isn't what you want to do anymore, I'll pay for you to go to school."

Erza looked at her suspiciously. "What do you get out of this?"

"My daughter back in my life."

The sentiment made Erza uncomfortable enough to say, "Alright. We'll try things your way." Anything to redirect the conversation. "About Acnologia."

"It wouldn't be a difficult thing to have Gildarts take care of him. Like me, he has a lot of friends in a lot of places, including _Prodigure._ "

Erza sighed hugely. "I gave Acnologia my word." Or she took his knife when he offered it, which was as good as.

Eileen smiled. "I said you had a knack for these things. Acnologia could be useful yet, I think."

Erza sucked on her bottom lip. "He said he knew where Kyouka was."

Eileen sat straighter. "Oh?"

"Maybe send Gildarts there to ask for her location. And…"

Eileen raised a brow. "And?"

"Have Gildarts call Jellal when he knows."

"Consider it done, _Tante_ ," Eileen said with a smile that made Erza's skin crawl in the best and worst ways.

A knock came on the door. Eileen raised herself from her chair and wandered over to answer. Angel waited on the other side. "Sorry to interrupt but Natsu is here."

Eileen's lips disappeared. "There isn't anything for him here."

"He says he has a delivery for Mira."

"And I say he's a fool. Give him a chance to leave and if he doesn't—"

Erza saw Natsu's shock of pink hair appear over Angel's shoulder. His voice carried to her ears. "It's important, _Tante_. I'll leave all my weapons here but I need to speak with her." He started pulling out guns and knives and brass knuckles. All of them he handed to Angel. She had her hands out but looked to Eileen for guidance.

"Why do you need to see her?"

He held up a USB. "Elfman asked me to pass this along."

"Leave it with me then," Erza said. "I'll make sure she gets it."

"He asked specifically that I put it in her hands," Natsu clarified. "I've heard it's rude to deny the dead."

"Check him, Angel," Eileen said before Erza could speak again. "Then you may escort him to Miss Strauss' room. Don't interrupt but wait outside."

"Mother—"

Eileen held up her hand, commanding silence. "You have my permission to shoot him if he does anything you don't like."

Natsu didn't fight when Angel started patting him down. Erza watched and tried to determine if he was genuine. He didn't _seem_ to be shifty or nervous. "Does Zeref know you're here?"

"I wouldn't be here if he did," Natsu responded.

_That_ Erza believed. "If you harm her, Natsu…"

He met her eyes and they shared an understanding, after which, Erza felt more at ease.

* * *

The floor was hard and cold beneath Mira's back. She liked the way it felt, the shivers it sent up her spine, and thus didn't move. In her ears, Marilyn Manson told her _'we're killing strangers so we don't kill the ones that we love_.' She had the music blaring loudly out of the headphones in the hopes of thinking about anything else, but

( _We got guns_ )

And

( _We pack demolition; we can't pack emotion_ )

And

( _Dynamite. We just might_ )

Kept her coming back round and round.

( _Blow us a kiss, blow us a kiss_ )

She couldn't stop.

( _And we'll blow you to pieces_ )

Elfman still came into her head. Perhaps her music choice wasn't the greatest. After all, Elfman had made a career out of ( _killing strangers_ ) with his ( _we got guns. We got guns._ ).

_'We want your help.'_ Like she'd just _give_ him Erza.

The ceiling blurred in Mira's vision. She closed her eyes and basked in the artificial darkness so she was surprised when hands closed on her headphones and pulled them from her ears. She blinked, hoping for Laxus or Erza or even _Tante_ Eileen but instead she got Natsu.

Mira wasn't afraid at first; she hadn't ever been afraid of Natsu, not really, but then she recalled what Erza said about Zeref. How he wanted to kill her for trying (so unsuccessfully) to kill him. She tasted iron in her mouth and sat up. She had no weapon and she was at a disadvantage on the ground. She tried to rectify that. Natsu grabbed her shoulder and kept her in place. "Relax."

Mira shoved him off and stood anyway, scrabbling to her feet ungracefully in her nighty. "How did you get in here?" Somnium was supposed to be safe with Kyouka gone. She was promised.

"I said I wasn't here to kill you and walked up the stairs, Mira."

Mira backed up until her legs hit the bed and she was within reaching distance of the wrought iron table lamp.

"Don't do anything stupid," Natsu said, "I wasn't lying, I only came here to drop something off."

Mira stopped eyeing the lamp and focused on Natsu. "What?" she asked warily.

Natsu went through his pocket. Mira tensed, expecting a gun when he drew his hand back out but it was only a thumb drive. "What is it?"

"I found it in the house a few days ago. There were instructions to pass it on to you if things went bad."

"Is it Elfman's?"

"Yeah."

"Did you look at it?

He nodded. Of course, he had.

Mira wasn't angry, she was relieved. "What is it?"

Natsu scrubbed the back of his head. "Maybe you should just watch it, Mira." He put the thumb stick in her hand. Mira clutched it tight. Natsu added, "When you're done, just know that Zeref is still angry but distracted for now. Don't cross him, I don't want to come looking for you."

"Somnium is supposed to be safe."

"Nowhere is safe when Zeref decides he wants to kill you. Elfman wasn't his only hit man or even his best."

"If that's true, how come you're doing all of the grunt work?" Mira dared to ask.

"Because I'm the one he trusts."

Mira sighed and pushed her hair back from her face, on edge enough that she had to move. "Thanks for delivering that." She didn't really mean it; she didn't want to know what was on that stick.

"I'm not done," Natsu said when he realized she was trying to shoo him off.

"What is it?"

"About what happened..."

He didn't need to say anymore. "Did you tell Lisanna?"

"No," Natsu said immediately. "And I'm not going to."

"I don't want to, either." It was cowardly; Mira didn't care.

Natsu looked both horrified and relieved. Mira wasn't going to take the burden from him and tell Lisanna something she didn't need to hear. Natsu went into his pocket again and pulled out a long velvet box. "Will you give this to her?"

Mira didn't take it immediately. "I thought you were going to see her?"

Natsu only kept the box extended.

"Natsu—"

"Please, Mira."

She sighed and took the box. "You're hurting her and yourself. Especially when you do stuff like this. It'd be kinder if you either just visited her or asked for the ring back and never saw her again."

Natsu blatantly ignored her and made for the door. "Tell me if she likes it."

* * *

Elfman sat on the couch and steepled his hands in front of this face. He bent his head and remained silent. Mira listened to him breathe over the recording. In and out, in and out, chest rising and falling steadily. Thirty long seconds passed and finally, Elfman lifted his head. His eyes were the blue of the ocean, not absolute, flecked with grey of a storm-tossed wave. "If you're seeing this, Mira, then things have gone bad." He pursed his lips. "Or at least _badder_." He pushed his fingers through his hair and forced it up at odd angles. He cleared his throat.

"You're probably angry, and confused and maybe there are rumors circulating about me. Maybe _I'm_ the one that helped circulate them." He scrubbed his hair again. He wore gold rings only on his left hand because it wasn't his hitting hand. Mira watched the metal wink. "I just… I didn't want to go out with you thinking that stuff so I want to tell you what really went down these last few weeks. Zeref might be mad that I'm telling you this but I don't think he'll deny me. He's good like that." There was a decanter of something amber on the table beside Elfman. He picked it up and poured the liquid into a small tumbler glass but didn't drink it. It was like he couldn't stop moving—he rolled it between his large palms. The liquid jostled, the smoke from the cigar he held curled and Elfman kept his eyes downcast, away from the camera. Mira wished he'd look up and was granted her request. Elfman had always been direct when it was time to be and his gaze never lost its weight, even through the camera. Mira met his eye and pretended like he was still alive.

"A few weeks ago, Zeref had a rumor dropped in his ear that Rahkeid was involved with the Cardinal. He didn't do what most parents would do and deny it. Zeref _knew_ Rahkeid was fucked up. He was going to kill him there but I begged him to hold off. I wanted in and Rahkeid was my connection. I told you in the car that day after I picked you up from the park that I was going to get this guy, Mira, and that never changed. What _did_ change was when I found out how _big_ of a following the Cardinal had. It wasn't just Rahkeid, Ivan and Sawyer, there was a girl he was trying to convert, Kagura, and he had people on the police force that knew about it, too. Some of them were fucked up in the same way—I don't know why people go bad around Zero, but they seemed to—or maybe I'm being harsh and they were afraid of him and of losing their jobs." Elfman puffed on his cigar. It took a second, the cherry was on the verge of going out. It came alive in a cloud of grey smoke and Elfman exhaled.

"Anyway. _Why_ doesn't matter to me. I got in good with Rahkeid and it was _easy_ because I never liked what you did. He believed I was genuine and introduced me to 'Cardinal Zero'. My initiation was delivering the crown of thorns to your apartment. They originally wanted me to grab Erza any way I could but I told them it'd never work, that you said Erza didn't deal with men outside business hours. The crown worked better than Zero intended—you both got fired and kicked out for going behind _Tante_ Rosemary's back _and_ for making keys and jeopardizing everyone in that shitty apartment. It seemed like it'd be easy pickings but then you ended up at the Prayer." He laughed lowly to himself. "I can't tell you how fucking _mad_ Zero was when he found that out. It was disgusting, he said, the Prayer was something he just couldn't stand. And Erza... she stood for everything he hated, you know? I asked him about it once and he told me that years ago, he was supervising a case. A nurse had been shot and killed in Magnolia by a cop, apparently. The story was, he was walking back to his hotel room when he heard a 'disturbance' in the room next door. He entered, there was a girl on the ground getting badly beaten and he shot. There was an inquiry. In the end, it was decided that he wasn't going to see disciplinary action, he was cleared and the girl was let go.

"Zero thought that should have never been. There were things about the case that didn't add up, like the trajectory of the bullet. The cop did a pretty good job covering his tracks but it was fired from an angle that would have been uncomfortable for the cop unless he was shorter, and the girl, she was beat up, yeah, but according to Zero, the bruises were old. No one _questioned,_ though. The legalization of prostitution was new and women abuse was a hot topic. No one wanted to drop a match into oil and get fried.

"It gnawed at Zero. I think he might have let it go, though, if he didn't find Kyouka. She was obsessed with Erza. She _hated_ her. There wasn't anything in this world that she'd like better than to stick a knife in Erza's ribs. Her obsession rekindled Zero's and, as they say, the rest is history."

He went back to smoking and thinking. "Sorry. I'm rambling. It's hard—confessions always are. Feels good, though." Mira watched Elfman gather his resolve.

"I've done some shitty things for the Cardinal, Mira. He wanted me to grab Zoya Balewa and I _did_. I fucked it up on purpose and I think he knew that. He forgave me because it was my first." His Adam's apple bobbed and he finally dropped his gaze. "The second, though, that was _Tante_ Alba and... I won't ever forget the way she screamed or my thoughts. I kept wondering if I was really going to drag her off and give her over to the Cardinal, and then I thought, I don't give a fuck. It's not my sister. It was hard, though. Harder than I thought it _should_ have been. I know what you're probably thinking, I kill people already, right? So what was the big deal?" He looked up again. "Because, Mira, and you never got this, but doing what I do for Zeref? There's some honour. I put on a suit, I brush back my hair, I put a bullet in a gun and I kill a man looking him in the eye. The people I see, they know I'm coming because they've done something to warrant that. This Cardinal shit, though? It kept me up at night." His hands were shaking when he finally drank from his tumbler. "Maybe the ground's got some peace for me."

He got silent again and Mira watched his movements, memorizing the way his hands flexed on his glass, the way his fingers curled around the fat cigar he held. She was so focused on his small intricacies that she startled when he said, "I shot up that cop you're involved with because Zero told me to. I was a little bit sorry. Sorry he didn't die because he's a cop and cops haven't done anything good for me, sorry he didn't die because he's paying you to fuck him. I'm also sorry that I did it. I didn't like how when you asked me about it, we parted ways badly. Every time I think about it, I think I wasn't seeing the whole picture; you actually like him. He seemed genuine enough. Maybe he's alright. I told Natsu to keep an eye on him, so…"

Mira couldn't find it within herself to be mad.

"Anyway," Elfman said. "I feel like I'm just going to start talking circles. Tell Lisanna I said sorry. It doesn't mean much, not now, but if I could redo things…" He swirled his drink and looked away from the camera, obviously uncomfortable. "I don't know, Mira. I don't know if I can say _I'd do them different_ because I'm not sure that's true. Just forget all that and tell her that I love her. I love you, too. Stay out of trouble." He leaned forward and pressed the stop button and the screen went black.

Mira took one breath and another. It didn't stop the torrent of tears that came. She clicked on the file and watched it all over again and when she was done, she stood and grabbed the gun Gildarts had given to her. Downstairs, there wasn't anyone to question her; she could hear Lisanna crying from somewhere and, below that, Erza's voice coming from the office beside the bar. The doorbell jingled overhead as she exited.


	33. Chapter 33

The iron gate clicked open without Mira having to press the buzzer and beg entry and honestly, she was _surprised_. And more than a little scared. She took to the flagstone driveway and walked slowly. Her feet were aching again; they hadn't healed since the last time she'd walked them into blisters and her flats _still_ weren't appropriate footwear for long treks across town. That being said, her yellow nightgown wasn't good for such things, either. It had earned her some peculiar looks from more conservative women, both worried _and_ hungry looks from men, and more than a few people stopped to ask her if she needed help. Mira told each one of them _no_ and was hyperaware of the gun hiding between her breasts.

She knew Zeref would see it. She _hoped_ that he would.

Halfway up the driveway, she eyed the bench Elfman had sat upon just a few short days before and felt her heart cramp and her eyes get damp. She thought she could cry forever and it would never be enough. She walked faster to keep everything at bay.

The house's large wooden doors opened well before Mira arrived on the stoop and Zeref waited for her. He _always_ looked dangerous, though somehow, his mussed hair and black dress shirt open halfway made him look even _more_ dangerous. There was a gun in his hand that he didn't at all try to hide.

"Today isn't a good day for a visit, Mirajane."

"It's not a social call," she replied.

"Your brother wouldn't want you here."

She tromped up the stairs and kept an eye on Zeref's finger tightening on the trigger. He hadn't aimed it yet, but he was thinking about it. "Invite me inside."

Zeref stood his ground. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"I think I don't want to say what I have to say on your front step," Mira said and brazenly pushed past him. She'd never get _tired_ of the adrenaline that came from doing something so reckless as piss off Zeref Dragneel.

He didn't swear. He didn't pull his trigger. He didn't grab her wrist and throw her right back out on her ass, though he could have done all of the above. He closed the door and Mira heard the lock engage and thought herself truly stupid indeed. Only a stupid girl would walk straight into the lion's den, right?

She knew her way to the living area and put herself down on the leather armchair that sat in front of an ornately carved coffee table made of birch wood. Zeref cautiously sat on the leather couch opposite her and watched Mira intently as she drew the gun from between her breasts and put it on the coffee table.

"I don't let people walk into my home with guns."

"But you let me."

"You're not thinking straight, you're grieving."

"And so are you," Mira pointed out. Every time she'd seen him recently, he'd been in black. "Did you watch Rahkeid die?"

"I ordered my brother to do it, Mira, and I made myself watch." Zeref might have at first said the words to scare her but he spoke them like a man coming to confession. He looked lighter for it.

Mira tried. "I drove away while the Cardinal shot my brother for trying to protect me."

"We're both awful people."

"It seems we have a lot in common," she dared.

Zeref looked at her drably. "Now that I doubt."

"Violence drives us."

He said candidly, "Listen, Mira, I didn't lie, it's really not a good day for a visit. I don't want to tell Lisanna that her last family member was shot dead, too, so if you're just here to kill me get up and leave."

"You wouldn't bother passing the news on yourself," Mira sniped. "You'd make Natsu do it for you. Like I let Elfman fight my battle for me."

Zeref looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. What was worse than killing your son? Making your little brother do it. It gnawed at him, that guilt. Made a man out of the monster. Mira was interested in the monster today, though. The man was a means to an end.

"Did you watch the video Elfman left for me?"

He blinked slowly. "Of course."

"Good, then you know without a doubt that Elfman is dead because of you."

"Elfman is dead because of Elfman," Zeref replied. "I never told him to dig through the Superintendent's business."

"Except when it regarded your son."

"I paid Elfman well. It was a _favour_ to him to let him chase after the Cardinal."

"What you think doesn't matter. You owe me a debt."

Zeref only stared at her. Judging by the look in his eye, he was trying to decide if she was serious or not. Mira said, "That's the way it works. My brother lost his life doing something for _you_ whether you like it or not. He found out Rahkeid was really involved and he kept that a secret when he could have blurted it and ruined you. If that wasn't enough, it was because of that involvement that Elfman lost his life." She repeated slowly, "You owe me a debt, Zeref."

"That's an antiquated view."

Now it was Mira's turn to stare.

Zeref sighed. "Humor me. What would this debt entail?"

"I want to shoot Superintendent Tores." Speaking it out loud made her hands quake and all of the blood rush to her head. _What if you're not a killer_? Her heart was cold, though. If she was staring the Superintendent in the eye, she could pull the trigger.

Zeref reached across them and flicked the butt end of her gun and sent it spinning on the table. "Then I suggest you take this and you head on over to the hospital and—"

"I don't want to be implicated."

Zeref's mouth went flat as understanding donned on him.

"You can make it happen," Mira said, remembering Natsu saying, _Elfman wasn't even his best._ Zeref had many people in many places able to accomplish many things.

Zeref sat back in his chair and Mira was able to capture just a fraction of her old passion for danger. It was different now. It wasn't men with guns, drugs and drink and fast cars that made her heart beat. It wasn't trains barreling down the tracks while she stood too close to them or cars going too fast while she distracted the driver with her body. It was the thought of taking the gun Gildarts gave to her, stepping into the hospital room that housed the man that had killed her brother and caused _so much havoc_ , and pulling the trigger. "The police won't kill him. He'll sit in his cell and he'll play more games and he'll poison more people like Rahkeid and—" Mira had to stop talking because Zeref had leaned forward and clamped his hand over her mouth. His skin smelled like the soap he'd used to wash his hands, like cigars and gun oil. Mira's heart churned again and her cheeks hurt, digging into her teeth.

"Don't speak that name here, not alongside the Cardinal's." Mira nodded her head as much as she was able and slowly, slowly, Zeref took his hand away. "Even if I was sympathetic to your cause, I haven't forgotten the last time you came here."

"Neither have I." Mira stood and came to Zeref's couch. It was _thrilling_ leaning into him and touching his leg, knowing that he was looking at her, knowing he was thinking about lifting the gun he still held and putting a bullet in her chest. She was fairly confident that he wouldn't. "I was only trying to do what was best for my family. You should understand. You love your family."

He leaned in so there was hardly any room between them. Zeref's eyes were like Natsu's, dark like a starry night, without bottom but also cold. He touched her cheek and pushed her hair back from her face. "When I looked at you when you showed up that day, Mira, I didn't see the girl I do now."

Mira looked at him from beneath her bangs. "What do you mean?"

His hand slid down to the spot above and between her breasts. "Today, I believe there's murder in your heart."

The cold she'd been experiencing only grew. Mira's breath came shorter and her palms itched. She liked hearing _that_ aloud. _Maybe you're broken like Lisanna._ Maybe they'd both always been that way. Maybe they just needed the _push_. "Can you make it happen?"

Zeref traced her inner thigh and his hands were as cold as his eyes. "I can put things in place. I can make sure that if you do exactly what I say, things will go well for you. That being said, I can get you in but you have to get you out."

She wasn't worried about out, not yet. "When?" Mira breathed.

"Tonight," he decided. "The sooner the better, before they can get things settled and a proper system in place. The security will be laxer at night. You can stay here in Elfman's room until I can scare up a nurse's uniform, and a plastic gun."

"Plastic?"

"Superintendent Tores is under strict supervision," Zeref said. "No one can just _walk_ in with a weapon and they'll be sweeping."

Of course. "Alright."

"I'll have Natsu bring it by," Zeref finished. "He'll have instructions for you."

"Okay."

Zeref finally let his hand drop between her breasts to her waist and then her legs and lingered at the hem of Mira's nighty. She wondered what she'd do if he strayed from that position, if she'd let him keep going or if she'd tell him to leave her alone. Both avenues had their merits.

Zeref's fingers fell away. "Take your gun with you."

Mira stood and showed herself out. Her muscles were quaking and between her legs was wet and she wanted to see Laxus. Mostly, though, she wanted to sit in a corner and get to know Mirajane Strauss the killer.

* * *

Laxus re-entered Tores' room an hour later equipped with a scowl and a piece of paper signed and dated. Tores didn't lift up to see who it was or what exactly it was that he carried but he didn't need to, somehow he _knew._

"I knew you could do it, Detective."

"Everyone thinks it's worth it to get the names, Tores." Laxus had to make a conscientious effort to do away with 'Super'. It was hard. Tores had been his supervisor since he started on the force. "It's in your best interest to be truthful."

"Or the guards will look away more often than not?" Tores teased.

"Those are your words, not mine."

"But they're truth."

Laxus knew it was incriminating to say either way and kept his damn mouth shut in that regard. "Sign the paper and date it." He handed over his pen. Tores scribbled down his name and tried to hand the pen back when he was through. Laxus took it by the very top and dropped it right in the garbage, not wanting anything he'd touched.

He wasn't offended—or if he _was_ , he chose a peculiar way to show it. "How is Ivan?"

"We're not here to talk about him."

"Don't you worry about your father?"

Laxus' jaw tensed; he couldn't help it. He made a shitty poker player. "The names, Tores."

"You flinch when I call Ivan your father. Does the relationship make you sick? Do you wish for someone more stable? More—"

Laxus' hands ached from balling them into fists so tight. It was either that or grab Tores and shake the life out of him. "I wish for someone that would talk when they said they're going to. Stop wasting my time."

Tores sighed and looked at the ceiling. "You rush things. Get comfortable, Detective. I have a lot I'd like to tell you."

Laxus almost remained where he was just because Tores said to relax but his ribs were hurting and he was an _adult_. He put his back against the window sill then took out Jellal's recorder and pressed play. He rhymed off the date and the time and the company, the purpose.

"You don't do this very often, do you?" Tores judged when Laxus was through. "Jellal should let you take over the interrogation setup once in a while."

There wasn't anything _wrong_ with how he did it. To fight was to feed Tores in whatever game he was playing. "Let's focus on you right now."

"I told Captain Mikovich that you needed a partner that was going to help you grow. You're an excellent detective, Laxus, you just need a little independence—"

"I don't know what you're trying to do, but stop," Laxus said blandly.

"Just trying to appreciate a good detective when I see one," Tores said innocently.

He was manipulative. Laxus didn't feed into his own anger, either. "Again, let's focus on you."

Tores' smile was slow. "Why not? We can start at the beginning."

Finally. "Quote your name for the record?"

"Zero."

"Your _real_ name, not some nickname—"

"It's the only name that matters. It's the first my victims learn on their travels to purity and the last they speak before they're absolved and given to God." Tores seemed to change while he spoke and it was like a different person came forward. Laxus had seen schizophrenics before but none had unnerved him as much as Tores did. He _hid so well_. Now that 'Zero' was free, though, Laxus had to wonder how he'd never seen it before. He wondered if he should have called Meredy in to decipher the crazy but he couldn't rightly call her up, not then. He was afraid if he stopped, Tores would never start again.

"You raped and murdered girls, Tores. Were you really the right one to be absolving them?"

"I had to do some evil to do good. They were punished for their lustful ways. I am at peace."

It was a good thing Jellal wasn't there then. He might have forgone the gun and gone with the pillow and smothered Tores to death. Laxus wasn't confident he'd stop him. He directed the conversation for his benefit as much as Tores'. "What's at the beginning?"

Tores turned his head just slightly and his eyes were cold. "My first kill was a girl in Crocus. She wasn't treated like the others—she got no crown or holy water. I strangled her to death and left her in the alley beside the Nickle." The Nickle was about as seedy as the bordellos got before they breached their contracts and dismissed regulations and got closed down. "The case went cold."

"Do you know her name?"

Tores eyed the ceiling once more; it seemed it hurt him to move his head despite the drugs. His shoulder was nothing but red meat beneath the dressing the hospital had put on him. "She was an anonymous that no one loved and no one missed. I did her a favour and she helped me refine my craft."

Laxus had to chew back hard on his venomous words. Who was Tores to decide who was loved and who was not? Who was virtuous enough and who was not? "Is that all? Just one Jane Doe in Crocus?"

"It took me quite some time to get brave enough even for that," Tores said. "I was weak when I began but this work has strengthened me. Since then, I've killed six women and one _very_ unholy priest." Father Buchannan was certainly not your average holy man. "Each time I freed them, I got a _rush_. I'd be lying if I said it was _just_ about scrubbing out the sin. I embraced being Cardinal Zero."

"What is _Zero?_ Some people think it's how many unsolved cases you have." Laxus dared.

"That's right." And he was _proud_ of that. _How could he go so bad?_ Laxus didn't understand. Tores read him like a book and explained. "Criminals are _predictable_ , Detective. They're so predictable that the work becomes _drab_."

"So you became a serial killer for the challenge?"

He laughed. "I suppose that was part of the appeal. I was bored and men like me need trial."

"Sometimes, the work throws you a curveball. No one is perfect all the time."

"You're right. Your partner proved that."

"Jellal did?"

"Yes. It was only a year after he'd started that he brought trouble."

"How?" Laxus asked despite himself.

"He bought a whore and he'd killed her husband. And then he covered his tracks. Sloppily, too. I might have respected him some if he'd done a decent job but he was new."

"That's not how I heard it told—"

Tores' good hand flexed. "We've all been _lied_ to."

Jellal was always muddled when it came to Erza so _maybe._ It was _possible._ Laxus didn't want to believe it, though. "What does that have to do with you?"

"He got _away_ with it. Everyone was _too scared_ to suggest he was anything but _innocent._ There was an abused woman who had been beaten within an inch of her life on multiple occasions and a hero that stepped in to put an end to it. Erza Scarlet was an illegal whore on the run from her tyrannical husband. How _brave_ she must have been. How _noble._ The fucking media was all over it. They _loved_ it. It bolstered the government's push to legalize prostitution _and_ it made the police force look good. On top of that, the bad guy died so he couldn't take up space in jail. Everyone won. Well, I shouldn't say everyone. That was a tarnish on my _perfect record_."

"That wasn't your case."

"But I was _supervising_ it, Detective. It might as well have been mine."

Tores was a wealth of crazy. "That's why Lucy Heartfilia died wearing a scarlet wig? Because you wanted to scare Erza?"

"I couldn't help myself. I kept thinking about Erza and Lucy together. Lucy Heartfilia was supposed to be a _good girl_. I knew her when she was young; her father was a friend. I would have them to my cottage in Hargeon at least once during the summer. I taught her how to fish when her father took advantage of the locality and started doing business deals, I had meals with her, I saw her potential and whores and their temptations ruined it. She was special."

"I'm sure her father thought so, too."

"If he did, he would have loved her more and made sure she didn't wander from her path. Unlike Mirajane, she actually had someone to guide her. You know, Elfman was very adamant that Mira could be saved but I knew the truth."

Laxus closed his eyes just briefly to gather his thoughts and to find something like _Zen_. He wished he was smoking again. Taking out a cigarette and putting it in his ear helped some.

"I see this conversation is making you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about my flock now, Detective? We can come back to this."

"Yes," Laxus said too quickly.

Tores smiled. He was a hound for weakness when he was himself and when he was 'Zero'. Some things were serial. "Very well, gather close."

Laxus removed himself from the wall and got as close to Tores as he dared.

"Who?"

"The first one I converted was Detective Sawyer. I was sad to hear he hadn't been found dead at the church, he was an excellent help. Eventually, I would have let him deliver one of our girls."

Though it was important, Laxus interrupted to ask, "You had people deliver the girls?"

"Sometimes."

"And then you killed them."

"Ivan and I, yes."

_Ivan and I_. Laxus tried to get some air and wished that the window was open. "Just you two?"

"We were the only ones with the right amount of conviction, we were the only one with a clear view of our goals. I was the only one pure enough at first but then I absolved Ivan of his past transgressions and he, too, became worthy."

Laxus needed to move on. _Needed to._ "Keep going. With the names."

"That's right—my apologies, Laxus, knowing that Ivan was so integral hurts you."

"Talk, Tores."

Tores smiled. He had the control and he liked it. "Zero."

"Sure, Zero," Laxus agreed, giving him what he wanted in order to get his names and get the hell out of there.

He looked placated once again. "Very well. That recorder is running?"

Laxus checked once more to make sure that the numbers were still counting. "You're good."

Tores' lips curled. "There is no one else, Detective."

"Pardon?"

"I lied. Everyone that you've captured belongs to me and that's all. With the exception of Kyouka, of course. She's still very much free, for now."

"You weren't lying," Laxus said, though whether it was because he _believed_ that or because he didn't want to feel like he had wasted his time and resources trying to get that goddamn solitary confinement, he couldn't say.

"No," Tores laughed. "I'm not. There were six of us. Ivan, Kagura, Sawyer, Rahkeid, Elfman and I, and as I said, only Ivan and I killed. The rest were paying their dues, working toward the moment when they were worthy."

"No. There's more." There _had_ to be.

Tores turned his face up toward the ceiling. "I think I'm through now, Detective. My shoulder is hurting and I'm tired."

"Tores—"

The man hit the button on his morphine drip and his face—which had been getting sweaty and grey—relaxed. "Will you visit again?"

Laxus wanted to throttle him. He'd even transferred the recorder into his bad hand, though he hadn't thought much about it, and taken a step forward. The door opened then and a nurse came through. "Detective Dreyar? Your grandfather asked that I come get you."

Laxus relaxed his clenched fist. "Gramps?" It was then he realized that the hospital was calling for a code blue. His guts twisted. "Is he still in Emerg?"

She nodded and her expression said it all.

Laxus turned off the recorder and started to follow the nurse; his _lungs._ His ribs. Everything felt _constricted._

Tores' voice followed. "I wasn't lying about your partner, Dreyar. He _did_ cover up a murder."

Laxus paused with his hand on the doorknob. "It wouldn't matter if you're lying or not. He's been cleared of the charge."

"He shouldn't have been."

Laxus started off again. Tores lifted his voice. "Right now he's waiting for Acnologia to tell him where to find Kyouka. The dragon told me himself. Just wait until he learns that it was Kyouka that suggested we kill _Tante_ Alba. What do you think Jellal's going to do with her then, Detective? I'm not sure it'll be _bring her back to the station._ He is a killer at heart and he's just learning. He's dangerous."

Laxus pulled open the door and let it slam loudly at his back. The hallway was as chaotic as it usually was. He looked for the cop stationed at Tores' door, a tall man he didn't recognize, and beyond him, Mirajane coming down the hallway. He barely saw her, though, not beyond vaguely registering that she was there and that she was approaching Tores' door.

The guard was much more with it than Laxus, telling Mira, "You can't be here, Ma'am—sanctioned personnel only. Move along."

Mira didn't seem to hear him. "Laxus…"

Laxus longed to linger _there_ , between Tores and his father, between poisons and prisons. Mira was looking like an antidote and a key. The loudspeaker again called for a code blue. His stomach pitched. "Excuse me."

She let him push past her without any complaint. Laxus took the halls at a run. The more his feet moved, the _faster_ they moved, taking him execrably toward the Emergency ward and thus, toward his grandfather and his father and his bullet. His bullet. _His._

Rounding the corner brought into view a set of double doors that Laxus didn't think he'd normally be able to go through if he didn't hold the position he currently did. Inside, doctors rushed into another interior room and Makarov turned from a viewing window. His eyes said it all. He held out his hand and Laxus forced his wooden legs to take him across the distance.

* * *

Mira's hands were sweaty. She wasn't supposed to see Laxus there. He was so distracted, though, he didn't even notice her in a pair of purple scrubs. She watched his shoulders until he retreated around the corner at a jog and then turned back to the task at hand. Her pocket was heavy with a gun Natsu had shown her how to shoot. Her mind was heavy not with the burden of this task but with the ghost of her brother.

It was her heart that was light.

Past the cop Mira walked, head held high and without issue. He glanced at her only once and this time, he didn't say things like, ' _you're not allowed to be here_.' Mira opened the door and came into the room that smelled like iodine and plastic. She found the man responsible for Elfman's death and felt revulsion. He looked immobile on his bed, sweaty and grey as he fumbled with his morphine button. He stopped and looked up upon her entry.

"I didn't know you took up a career in nursing, Miss Strauss. I see your brother's sacrifice wasn't for nothing."

The coldness in her chest only expanded. Mira breathed deeply of the stale air and approached. Tores' demeanor changed the closer she came; he developed a seriousness she'd seen only when he was on top of her, holding her breasts and her shoulder and slamming into her hard enough that she felt it deep in her belly, the pleasure that, afterward, left a slow, cramping ache. She saw now what Erza meant: there was a lot of rage in him, hidden not so subtly beneath the surface. She felt filthy for letting him touch her and for liking it.

"I admit, I wasn't expecting you," Tores continued. "I thought perhaps Erza would try… or she'd send one of her underlings." He sighed. "It's a shame. Despite your whoring ways, you were so… sweet, Mira. Not like your brother who would rather kill his rage away, not like your sister who fights herself _every day_. I honestly considered letting you redeem yourself. You had potential."

Mira took the gun from her pocket and brought herself to the edge of the bed without responding. Tores looked between her and the gun and saw the same thing Zeref must have because he asked, "So this is how it ends?"

Mira grabbed his shoulder and dug her fingers into his wound because she wanted to _feel_ it when the bullet took him away. She pressed the gun to his chest. "Not with a bang but a whimper."

* * *

Jellal had done three circuits of Magnolia when his phone buzzed. He expected to see Laxus' name. _Hoped._ He'd answer and his partner would say something about Tores or ask him to show up for the interrogation but instead, it was a number he didn't recognize. He answered on the second-to-last ring and heard a familiar voice speak before he had the chance to say hello. "Drop your car at Six-Twenty Walker. We'll go from there." The line went dead. Jellal's mouth filled with the taste of iron and his ears rang.

_Go or not go?_ There was only _one_ answer. _Call for backup or not?_ The one thing Somnium's most notorious enforcer was _not_ going to do was play guide for the MPD. Ahead was a stoplight at which he could turn right and return to the station and _forget_ about the call; or he could go straight and hold Kyouka accountable for her actions. She was the last piece of the puzzle.

Jellal stepped on the gas and made it through an intersection too late. He almost smoked a Civic turning left. The resulting horn blast fell on deaf ears; all he could think about was Kyouka and _Tante_ Alba and Erza and getting some justice. Kyouka wouldn't be the one that got away.

Six-Twenty Walker was an ancient industrial building with two sets of large rollup doors. One opened just enough to allow him entry when he pulled into the parking lot. Jellal nosed the Tahoe in onto the concrete floor and stopped just inches of a waiting Gildarts' booted feet.

"You should know that I'm going to kill her," Gildarts said when Jellal opened the door. "You can turn back now and pretend like we never had this conversation."

Jellal checked his gun and his vest. "Lead on."

* * *

Laxus wasn't sure how long he'd stared through that plate glass window. Long _enough_ for his eyes to turn dry and for his hand to cramp. Slowly, he untangled his fingers from his grandfather's.

"Where are you going, Laxus?"

Laxus didn't have to stretch the truth much. "I have work to do, gramps. I can't stay."

"Laxus, your father—"

"Isn't someone worth mourning. I have to go."

Makarov looked wounded; Laxus' already pinched throat closed up some more. He had to _move_. His feet seemed too stuck so he pulled his phone from his pocket and checked a text from Wendy. She'd stopped to let out Beau and was on her way with her grandmother. _At least Gramps won't be alone then_. Guilt almost smashed him to pieces there.

_No one would blame you for staying._ He would blame himself, though, if he did and Jellal did something stupid. _Maybe just call._ Jellal was the reasonable one. The responsible one. The one that

_Didn't cover up murders for girls they only just met._

_Tores was lying_.

Laxus pulled his phone out _anyway_ and got voicemail three times in a row. He called Erza next. For once, she answered and Laxus forwent hello. "Where is he?"

Erza's hesitation made his balls shrivel in the most unpleasant way. "Tell me!"

"Wexgate Boulevard."

By the docks. It was a popular killing ground, every cop in the city knew that.

"Gildarts is with him. He'll be alright—"

Laxus hung up, cutting off her words, and took off at a run. His grandfather called his name; Laxus didn't slow. He couldn't. He was running _to_ Wexgate about as much as he was running _from_ that hospital ward and he couldn't go fast enough.

Downstairs in the lobby, just about to burst into the parking lot, he had a sinking revelation. He didn't have the Tahoe. He didn't have his car, either, and Jellal's wasn't there. There was a slew of curses on his tongue when he spotted a familiar pink boat of a Cadillac pull into the handicapped parking. Crook-backed Porlyusica got out of the passenger's seat and Wendy was opening the driver's door. Laxus jogged out to meet them and barely looked either way before crossing the drop off laneway.

"Laxus, I—" Wendy started.

"I need to borrow your car," he said and plucked the keys right from her hand. There was a guitar keychain beside a Sailor Mercury one and a cute white cat; the keychains tangled together in his sweaty hands.

"What—why?"

There wasn't any time to answer her. He got into the driver's seat and brought the beast to life. When he put his foot down, the engine roared as only a Cadillac could. He swung out of the parking spot and pushed it in a way he was sure the car had never been pushed for as long as it had been in Porlyusica's possession.


	34. Chapter 34

The vehicle that Gildarts had for this kind of work was a black Ford Escape. Aside from being almost too small for him and Jellal to sit side-by-side, it was nondescript and Jellal was sure that if he ran the plates, they'd belong to a man fitting Gildarts' description, a man that had an upstanding career on the good side of town, a man with a family and a good job. Not a killer. To delve any deeper was to find ghosts. The man was a myth.

They drove to the beat of Michael Jackson's _Billie Jean_. Gildarts bopped along in good humor, unbothered by his ' _killing Kyouka'_ claim and Jellal had to wonder if he should also be so careless. People got what they deserved, right? _If_ Tante _Alba heard you now…_ She'd smack him. He was supposed to be _better_ than that. That's why she paid for him to go to school. That's why she pulled all of the strings she did to get him on the force. That's why he worked so _hard_ to make Detective.

"Don't fuck with me."

"Huh?"

Gildarts reached into the impractical console between them and brought out a package of _Players_. He crammed one of the cigarettes between his lips and lit it with an orange lighter he pulled from the same cubby. "You told me to lead on and so I'm leading on, but _you're_ thinking too much."

"I'm not—"

"You are; I can see it. And I get it. _Tante_ Alba paid for you to become a cop and she did it for a reason," Gildarts said as he sped through an intersection, on the other side of which the lake could be seen through the tall and slowly degrading buildings, glittering beneath the midday sun. "She saw something in you, kid. Something she thought could be good if moulded the right way."

Jellal wished the landscape was more interesting, that way, he could avoid Gildarts' gaze without being too obvious.

"There ain't no shame in getting out and walking back to where you belong, but you need to tell me now before we're in dock town. I'm not slowing down at the gates because you found your morals."

"I'm fine."

Gildarts puffed on his cigarette. "You know, _Tante_ Alba used to preach something to me every time we saw each other: 'Cops and criminals have the same heart, Gildarts.'"

"Why'd she tell you that?"

"Because she was an old lady with complicated morals that had seen a lot of shit. Cops go bad, criminals go good, and kids who hadn't decided yet could be made to make the _right_ choice."

"What's your point?"

"I always told her she was wrong about the hearts but she was adamant. I still think she was a crazy old coot." Jellal parted with the horizon so he could glare at Gildarts. The other man smoked and drove and didn't have a care in the world. "What do you think?"

"The hell does it matter what I think?"

Gildarts only shrugged, meaning that it mattered more than Jellal realized. He paid better attention and crafted his next words carefully. "What she said made sense." It didn't take much to blur the line between justice and revenge.

"But do you think she was _right_?" Gildarts had been slowing so gradually, Jellal almost didn't realize it. He'd also poked his cigarette into the corner of his mouth and started adjusting his jacket. Jellal found himself wondering what the Escape would look like with cop brain splattered over its innards. It wouldn't look that way for long, the car would go behind one of the abandoned factories on Wexgate Boulevard and it would be burned to a crisp, leaving no evidence and no one would dare interrupt.

"Maybe she was right and they do have the same heart. Sometimes, I feel like the only thing that makes me any different is the badge I carry."

Gildarts said, "I understand you don't have one of those at the moment."

"No." Gildarts was pulling his hand from his pocket so Jellal slowly inched his way to his gun, hoping that his reaction time would be faster than Gildarts' methodical movements if he decided that the cop he was carting around was going to be more trouble than he was worth. Gildarts' hand came out and he wasn't holding a gun, it was a cellphone. Jellal breathed out and let his shoulders relax.

As he drove and punched in a text, he said, "You're too tense, kid, I'm not going to shoot you, _Tante_ Eileen _and Tante_ Erza asked me not to if I could avoid it."

Apparently, he hadn't been as subtle as he hoped. Jellal let his shoulders drop and expelled a huge breath. "If you could avoid it."

Gildarts puffed on his cigarette and took a corner slow enough that it could have been a granny driving. When they were straight again, he put his foot on the gas and the RPM's revved but they didn't go anywhere too quick. "This thing is fucking gutless. Good, though, everyone thinks it's a family vehicle."

"If only they knew," Jellal muttered.

Gildarts looked affronted. "I take my daughter out in this all the time."

"To Wexgate?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes, I think she wants to be just like Daddy."

Great, two Gildarts Clive's. "Is she as tart as you?"

Gildarts developed a glow Jellal didn't know he had in his potential. "More than."

"Great."

"She makes a better wingman than you, too, she's not so morally conflicted."

"I told you, I'm not—"

"You are. But I'll tell you why you shouldn't be: this is the woman that tried to kill Erza. She ran you in circles, she crossed _Tante_ Eileen and planned on having her ruined at Erza's expense so _she_ could run Somnium. And you know what? I have it on good authority that Somnium wasn't her only target. She and Acnologia together wanted to wipe out the competition. You know what that means?"

Jellal knew he was being baited; like a stupid fish, he took it. "What?"

"Bye, bye, Zeref. Bye, bye, _Tante_ Rosemary. Bye, bye, _Tante_ Daisy, and any other bordello and Matriarch in the city that wouldn't recognize her."

He didn't say _Tante_ Alba aloud but Jellal heard it and his blood went cold.

"You see now?"

It was hard not to. Gildarts' mouth curved into a half-moon smile that contradicted the poppy music still pouring out of his speakers. "Maybe I was too harsh. _Tante_ Alba wasn't all wrong, was she?"

After all, criminal or lawman, it took the same kind of conviction to pull a trigger.

The next time the Escape slowed, it was in front of a huge industrial building speckled with seagull shit and grey with water stains. All of the windows were intact and the front entrance had been sprinkled with salt to break up any ice that formed last night as winter held on desperately.

"When you go through all the paperwork, this building is owned by Acnologia," Gildarts said. "I was told we wouldn't meet any resistance and as far as I'm concerned, Acnologia is a man of his word. Best be prudent, though."

Jellal checked his gun one more time for good measure. The clip was full. By the time he'd gotten out of the car, he still wasn't sure if he was going to use it or not. His phone was ringing in his pocket. Ringing and ringing. The caller would hang up and start over again a second later. He must have had a dozen missed calls. There was only one person he knew with that kind of tenacity. He pulled out his phone to leave it in the car and inadvertently glanced at Laxus' patented glower. When Jellal took the picture, Laxus had been looking at a stack of paperwork on his cubicle and not posing at all. Laxus Dreyar didn't pose for contact photos. He didn't even know that this one existed.

He put the phone face-down on the seat and followed on Gildarts' heels. He watched the rooftops and saw men with guns, he watched the ground and got much of the same. The place was absent of Acnologia's men.

"I was also warned not to snoop around," Gildarts said lowly. "Our welcome will be revoked."

"I'm only here for Kyouka," Jellal responded.

"Good. Since we're this far, I should warn you, she's coming back to Somnium."

"I thought you were going to kill her?"

Gildarts' nonresponse left a lot to the imagination. What would a scorned Eileen Belserion do to traitorous Kyouka? He knew the philosophy that ruled on the streets: pay back in kind. While Gildarts toted guns and would shoot to kill if necessary, Jellal was sure, a nice, quick bullet wasn't in Kyouka's cards, not if it could be helped. Jellal's skin lifted in goosebumps that had very little to do with the cold air. He was back to being conflicted. Erza sounded in his head with, ' _You will catch her killer. I know you will, and you'll do it as a detective, not a shade of grey criminal,_ ' and _Tante_ Alba, too, assuring him that he'd find the Cardinal.

Guilt didn't slow Gildarts, he walked with authority to a scratched and spray painted metal man door and pulled it open with the kind of brazen attitude Jellal expected from him but was surprised to see, considering the circumstances.

Gildarts noticed his hesitance and misread it. "If they're going to shoot us, it's going to be inside. Hurry up."

"Wait."

"We don't have time to wait. Someone could have told her that we're coming. We have to move."

"No. I have to take her in," Jellal blurted.

Gildarts' expression fell. "I told you the arrangement."

"I changed my mind." He started toward the door and Gildarts caught his elbow, bringing him back. Jellal shook him off and was looking down the barrel of a gun faster than he could blink; he realized now that maybe Erza was right, Gildarts had just been fucking with him and Laxus in Somnium the other day. If he wasn't, they likely would have been dead.

" _Tante_ Erza likes you so I don't want to shoot but I—"

Jellal lurched and pushed the gun up and away from his face. A shot went off and punched through the brick building on the other side of the street. Jellal hit Gildarts' wrist again and sent the weapon flying. Gildarts went for another and Jellal used his elbow and hit Gildarts on the cheek. He stumbled and Jellal took the opportunity to pull out his own weapon. He had it cocked and trained by the time Gildarts stood. "Put your hands together."

Gildarts didn't immediately comply. "I didn't lead you out here to be a cock, Fernandez. Think about what you're doing."

" _Put your hands together_." Out of the corner of his eye, a Pepto-Bismol pink Cadillac rolled through the streets at break-neck speed. There was only one car in Magnolia that fit that description, though he never knew Wendy to be a desperado. He kept his eyes trained on Gildarts while the beast of a car swung into the parking lot and came to a screeching halt just feet from them. It wasn't Wendy behind the wheel like Jellal feared but Laxus looking as mad as a badger.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"I should be asking the same thing," Jellal said, attention never wandering from Gildarts' twitching fingers. "Why are you in that car?"

"What else was I supposed to take?"

"Anything but? Everyone in town knows that damn thing and would see it from a mile away," Jellal hissed.

"I think it suits you," Gildarts said sardonically. "Sickly pink, overstated, loud—"

"No one asked you. Ever," Laxus snapped. Jellal might have laughed at his partner's obvious discomfort if he didn't think that this was such a bad place to stage a coo. Laxus picked up on the tension quickly. "Kyouka's inside?"

"That's what they say," Jellal agreed. Hopefully, that was still true.

"Are we putting cuffs on him?"

Jellal gauged Gildarts' demeanor—that valley between his brows and the sharp curve of his mouth spelled trouble. Afterward would be pure regret, he wasn't sure he could hold Gildarts for any length of time, not if _Tante_ Eileen wanted him returned, but what else was there to do? "Do it."

"Don't, Laxus," Gildarts said. "Your grandpa isn't going to like it if I kick your ass, especially when you're hurting."

Jellal glanced at his partner who was favouring his ribs and was grey with pain and knew they wouldn't survive a fair altercation, not and get to Kyouka without alerting her to their presence. He said a wry prayer and hoped that his aim was true. The butt of the gun hit Gildarts squarely between the eyes because Gildarts didn't think Jellal would play dirty. When he stumbled back, dazed and disoriented, Jellal swiped the cuffs hanging off Laxus' hip and locked one around Gildarts' wrist. Gildarts began fighting back then, swinging and getting a decisive hit into Jellal's ribs. He felt it like a dulled hammer strike. He was able to block the next one to his face, and the one after aimed at his liver. He slipped shoving the next fast and strong hit aside and his cheek flared. Jellal didn't sweat or gripe; he remained silent and hoped that Gildarts, like his classmates that he'd sparred with, were thrown off balance by the silence. No such luck; Gildarts Clive had seen worse than Jellal Fernandez, apparently. The next time Gildarts attacked, it wasn't with his fists or his legs, he went for the gun thrust into the belt loop at the small of his back. He gave no fucks about Jellal's own gun.

Despite his quickness, Gildarts never got his weapon aimed. Laxus had taken his gun from his holster and used it as a battering ram, jamming it into the man's temple. It hit Gildarts hard enough that he crumpled, groaning and hissing, semi-conscious.

"Thanks." Jellal's blood was roaring in his ears and his cheek was burning. That was going to leave a mark. He shoved his gun back into its holster and hauled Gildarts up by the scruff of the neck. "Open the car."

"The car?"

"I'm not leaving him here," Jellal said. "Open the car."

"I don't know if Wendy is going to like—" A look made Laxus' next words dry up. "Alright."

With a lot of effort and some sweating, Jellal bullied Gildarts into the front seat and fed the handcuffs through the steering column before attaching them again. "You have the keys?"

Laxus waggled the Sailor Mercury keychain in his face and Jellal couldn't help but say, "She's Wendy's favourite, too. You have a lot to talk about."

"Fuck off and focus."

He focused but not before smiling viciously. If they made it out of this he was going to cherish the image of Laxus in that pink Cadillac forever. "Ready?"

"No," Laxus muttered beneath his breath. He didn't really look it, either, sweaty and pale.

"You want to sit this out?"

"Fuck, no." Laxus took his gun from his shoulder holster and checked the clip.

Good. Jellal needed help remembering what it meant to be an officer, apparently, and Laxus was the man for the job. "According to Gildarts, Acnologia said we were welcome to Kyouka but don't mess with anything else in there."

"Do those conditions stand only with Gildarts in there with us?"

"Don't know."

"Great."

"Just chill. And ditch the cop walk." He'd add _the injured walk, too_ , but didn't think Laxus would appreciate it.

This time, Jellal took lead and Laxus didn't try to tell him not to, nor did he look at Jellal like he was insane, for which Jellal was grateful, it made him feel _less_ cut loose and more like the man he knew, the one that didn't consider killing Kyouka because he was full of rage and needed somewhere to vent and someone to blame.

Jellal reached the door; Laxus went to its left, he stuck to the right and carefully pulled it back. Laxus peeked around the frame first, gave a nod of his head and motioned Jellal through. Low on his haunches and his gun pointed low, for the second time that day, Jellal came into the unknown.

The factory wasn't like the church, there weren't rows upon rows of pews to hide behind, there was an open space choked with dust and grime, lit with the watery sunlight that burst through the filthy windows, there were pillars holding up an awning ceiling that miraculously didn't leak, and there was a trail of footprints that led to an office at the back. Empty, empty, all corners, though there were spots near windows and exterior doors where people had obviously stood not so long ago.

Acnologia had warned them not to look around the building too hard. It was difficult not to, it was something that just came _naturally_ to him. There wasn't anything on the surface that was immediately incriminating but Jellal knew that didn't mean much; _Tante_ Alba kept her processing plant secret from all but those who guarded it and the Prayer wasn't anywhere near as large as this place. Walls and floors and ceilings had much to hide if you knew where to look. He wasn't interested in Acnologia's drugs, though.

Dust muted his steps as he approached the office at the back of the building. He moved slowly, ready for bullets to fly his way. It was disorienting psyching himself up so badly and then having the tension go on unbroken for so long. It would be easier, he thought as he closed the distance unhindered, if Kyouka would have someone loyal to her in this building, someone who would bust out a window from the outside and fill the large and empty space with gunfire. That thought had him checking for shadows against the windowpanes. Nothing.

Above, a pigeon fluttered its wings. Jellal jumped and Laxus aimed his gun. When he identified the intruder, he didn't shoot; he did look grumpy, though. Jellal held back his eye roll and pointed to the footprints. There were several pairs of tracks but he thought that the most recent pair was small, narrow, and belonging to a woman.

Laxus nodded and together, they approached the office door cautiously. Laxus again stayed left and Jellal again went right. He put his back to the wall and got low. He was about to open his mouth to identify himself but Kyouka beat him to the task, her voice carrying out of the office. "Does this mean Acnologia has betrayed me?"

"You should have known that he would," Jellal replied.

Kyouka was silent; it was obvious that she hadn't expected to hear Jellal. "Who is with you, Detective?"

She still sounded wary, and perhaps a bit frightened. It was like a splash of cold water, realizing that Kyouka trusted him about as much as she trusted any of her enemies. "My partner."

She wasn't right behind the door and she didn't lift her voice enough to easily be heard—a trick to throw off anyone shooting through the walls. "I want to hear him speak."

Laxus gave Jellal a _what the fuck_ look. Jellal waved him on. "I'm here, Kyouka."

The next time she spoke was to ask, "AndGildarts? Where is he?"

"He's outside, cuffed to a steering wheel."

"Cuffed to a steering wheel."

"We had a difference of opinion when it came to what happened to you," Jellal replied.

"He wants to kill me and you want _what_ , Detective?"

"I'm here to arrest you, Kyouka, not kill you."

"It's basically the same thing now. It'd be kinder if you came in here and put a bullet between my eyes."

"That's not how we do things." Not, no matter what that small and dark voice in his head screamed.

She got quiet again. "How about if I told you _I_ was the one that paid _Tante_ Alba's guard to let Elfman through so he could bring her to the Cardinal?"

That voice screamed louder. Jellal thrust away the image Kyouka's words conjured. "Don't play games, Kyouka." Today wasn't the day.

Her voice was flat delivering, "I'm not. Didn't you know?"

His gun dug into his palm and he realized that he held it too hard.

Laxus spoke when Jellal didn't. "Come out quietly, Kyouka."

"What happened to Detective Fernandez?"

"He's still here."

"Oh, but he didn't like that, did he?"

Laxus skimmed right over her words. "I'm going to open the door and we're going to go down to the station."

"We'll never make it."

"Of course we will."

"Are you really so stupid? _Tante_ Eileen will never allow for it. Open the door and let your partner do as he wants; it'll be kinder than what's waiting for me at Somnium."

Jellal composed himself again. It helped to hear the fear in Kyouka's voice. " _Tante_ Eileen isn't here. It's just me and Laxus and I'm not going to hurt you. We're calling for a police escort now."

Laxus again shot him a look. Jellal motioned a phone call and Laxus pulled out his phone.

" _Tante_ Eileen pays a lot of the police to keep her secrets—if you call them here, we'll all be murdered."

Laxus stayed the text he was about to send.

"When you come back to the station, Kyouka, give me the names of the people that are bought and anything else you know about the Cardinal and I swear to you, you'll be safe." It killed Jellal to make a deal with the woman that had lured Alba out but deal he did.

There came only silence.

"Kyouka?"

More silence.

Jellal grabbed the door handle. "Kyouka?"

From the other side of the door, Kyouka took in a gulp of air and then Jellal heard something heavy hit the floor.

"Hell."

Jellal pushed open the door, gun ready, and scanned the office. Empty of desks and chairs and cabinets, there weren't many places to hide. A small window on the outside wall was cracked open and beneath it Kyouka lay, twitching and foaming from her mouth. Jellal watched with detachment; it was Laxus that went to her and, though it must have been painful, dropped to his knees.

It felt like it took forever for Laxus to look up and demand an ambulance and even longer for Jellal to obey. After that, they waited. Jellal watched Laxus find a dart in the side of Kyouka's neck, tear it out and then he watched Kyouka stop twitching faster than he thought possible. Whatever poison she'd been hit with was fast acting. Her chest stopped rising and her eyelids closed and her cheek wetted with spittle.

Distantly, he heard the wail of a siren and then under that, the rumble of the Cadillac's engine. He didn't need to wonder further than that who Kyouka's assassin was. He did regret that Wendy's car was being stolen, though. Laxus seemed to realize what was happening at the same time Jellal did. He swore viciously and looked like he wanted to rise and chase after Gildarts.

It wasn't any use, Gildarts was long, long gone.

When the EMT's arrived, they piled into the room with antidotes and defibrillators that would not shock because they couldn't find a sinus rhythm and Kyouka remained just as still as she was before.

They hitched a ride to the hospital in an ambulance and waited to hear the official decree that Kyouka was DOA. It was there that, as they were waiting and Laxus was chewing a hole in his cheek and Jellal was struggling to feel something other than relief, that they were informed that Superintendent Tores was shot and killed in his hospital bed. Jellal had a hard time feeling badly about that, too, though he didn't like the feeling of constantly losing.

* * *

Erza answered her phone on the second ring, seeing Gildarts' familiar number pop up.

"It didn't work out the way we wanted, _Tante_."

She still wasn't used to hearing herself called that. It was a title that belonged to her mother, not her. "Jellal?"

"He's alive. And his partner, but Kyouka's sitting in the morgue."

It wasn't supposed to come to that; it made everything that much more difficult. "How long until she wakes up?"

"The drug'll wear off in a few hours. After that, people are going to start wondering why a dead woman's up and walking and we'll never get her. She'll end up back at the cop station and all of our secrets will be spilled. If we're going to get her out and bring her back home, we need to move now. I have to drop off this car I've got and then I'll grab Angel and—"

"I want to go," Erza said.

" _Tante_ —"

"If I'm going to order her brought back here, I want to be the one to do it."

He sighed. "Let me scare up a suit, you'll need help with her. Wear something respectable."

Erza hung up and lifted her gaze to her mother. "No one's dead but Kyouka's lying in the morgue. We're going to get her."

"You?"

"And Gildarts," she added, thinking that's what her mother wanted to hear.

Eileen gnawed on her lip. "You should let him handle it."

"Let me do things my way or I won't do them at all," Erza responded.

"The hospital is crawling with police, Erza. The Superintendent was shot dead in his hospital bed and Kyouka will be under scrutiny, considering the circumstances of her death and her involvement in this mess."

Erza wouldn't be shaken. "You wouldn't even let Gildarts try to get her if you thought he couldn't do it. Is the mortician yours, too?"

Eileen's red lips came together and Erza knew her answer. "If anyone sees you and recognizes you..."

"I spent a lot of time being a whore, mother. The one thing I'm good at is making myself look like someone else."

"Erza—"

"This is the game you want me to play so let me play it."

Eileen heaved a huge sigh and Erza knew she won. She left her mother in her office and came back into the bar just in time to see Lisanna come in from outside. Without anyone at her elbow watching her every move, she looked like a loose cannon. Her arms were scratched and bleeding from her own nails and her eyes were red. Something had upset her or maybe it was still the news of Elfman. Erza tried for something to say because she thought she should. Her head was a blank slate.

That was alright, Lisanna knew how to fill the silence. "Are you going to take care of Mira?"

Erza stumbled, caught off guard. Her mother rescued her, her voice coming from the doorway of her office. "As _Tante_ , Erza will take care of everyone."

Some of the worry came from Lisanna's shoulders and she moved on again, her slippered feet whispering over the floor quietly. She wavered back and forth like a candle flicking in the wind and then she was gone, into the door behind the bar.

"She's strange," Eileen said. They all were, Erza thought as she ascended the stairs to dress. Normal people didn't fish falsely dead bodies from the morgue.

* * *

Laxus listened to the to the steady tap, tap, tap of Jellal's heels against the ground, attention divided between the reddening horizon (this felt like the longest, shittiest day ever) and Jellal's shoes. He wasn't in his usual polished leather cap toe oxfords, the shoes that looked great but, as Laxus knew from personal experience, were shitty to wear. No, Jellal had thrown on work boots before leaving his apartment early that morning and the laces were still just tucked into the tongues. Laxus looked down at his own shoes. He, too, wasn't wearing anything presentable. Sneakers and jeans made a shitty impression when the acting Superintendent wanted a debriefing and Satan himself was fanning a fire for your roasting pleasure. Laxus wished they'd avoided Tores' hallway entirely because while he was trying to distract himself from asking the hard questions like where his grandfather was, he was snuck up upon by a surly man with too much hair and not enough personality and the words 'report' and 'debriefing' were being thrown around. Acting Superintendent Lahar wanted to know everything there ever was to know about Kyouka and how she was involved in all of this just as soon as Lahar was able to ditch the media dogs.

Laxus could think of better things to do than dance around the who's and the where's and the how's. Like light his third cigarette. The first two he hardly noticed sucking back. The third was making his mouth numb. "What a fucked up day."

"Yeah."

Jellal didn't need a recap but Laxus recapped it anyway, just to get it off his chest. "First Erza gets nabbed and I think she's going to bite it, then Gildarts pisses all over my parade, I shoot my old man," and watched him die. He wasn't ready for that yet. "And then I have to take Wendy's goddamn Cadillac. You think Gildarts is ever going to let me live that one down?"

"I don't know, but I probably won't," Jellal said.

"Fuck off."

Jellal found a small shred of humor to balance out their impending doom. "I thought you looked good in it."

"Of course did. I look good in everything."

Jellal's smile was bland.

Laxus tested the waters. "I feel bad about Wendy's car but I was in a rush. I thought I was coming to save your ass from doing something crazy," Jellal didn't tell him he was taking the piss and Laxus' guts knotted. If Tores was right about Jellal standing on that ledge, what else was he right about? "Tores talked about what happened when you first met Erza..."

"What about it?"

Laxus couldn't think of a decent way to ask. And really, did it matter? "I don't know. Nothing important, really, I guess. He was just trying to piss me off. Forget it."

Jellal did for a few seconds. "Erza took my gun that night."

Laxus sighed.

"You didn't see the bruises."

No, he did not. "I trust your judgment." Foolishly, maybe, but if he didn't trust Jellal, he didn't trust anyone.

"Thanks."

Laxus wished he wouldn't thank him; it felt _wrong_. _But he had the charges dropped._ It was a _thing_. A thing that _everyone_ knew about. It was just Tores with a hornet in his bonnet. "I think he knew his time was coming up. He was acting like he didn't have much to lose."

"Do you think it was the guard that did him in?"

"Don't know." But he _hoped_ because he didn't like the other answer.

"Did you see the cop guarding Tores' door before you left?"

Laxus shook his head. "I was in a rush. Nurses called me."

"…Your father?" Jellal was just as hesitant broaching hard topics.

Laxus grunted something barely intelligible that Jellal somehow understood. "Sorry, man."

Laxus bounced to a more relevant conversation, one that didn't make him feel simultaneously _relieved_ and _sick_ to be that way _._ "I got the most fucked up confession ever today..."

"Yeah?"

There wasn't anyone out there in front of the hospital. Laxus dropped his voice anyway. "Tores was so fucking self-righteous but he was having sex with those girls. Raping them. I don't get it."

Jellal let his head fall back and stared at the twilight sky. "Probably, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He tried it once, telling himself that it was just to _understand_ what the need to buy escorts was, and afterward told himself that he hated it. All the while, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He found himself back there again and again, buying sexual favours. Because he thought he knew it was wrong, he took out his frustration on the girls."

"Talking to Meredy again?"

"No, but I bet she'll say the same thing."

"Psychology is bullshit."

"Sometimes."

"I need a vacation."

"Mm. The only thing I need is our truck."

"Where is it?"

Jellal snorted "A loading dock at Six-Twenty Walker. How do you think Captain's going to feel about calling that a write-off?"

"Not good. I wonder if Gildarts is going to shoot us if we go get it?"

"Yeah... I could ask Erza about it."

"Sure. Ask your girlfriend to get her enforcers not to shoot us. This is fucking crazy." Jellal didn't fight and Laxus knew his partner was in deep, maybe even deeper than he realized. "When are you seeing her?"

Jellal scrubbed his head. "I don't know. Like you said, I might get shot."

"Sorry about your luck." Jellal looked cranky. Laxus tried to cheer him up by pulling out the keychain he'd taken from Wendy and rolling the keyrings around. "It's Sailor Mars, by the way."

"Mars?" Jellal repeated.

"My favourite Sailor Scout. It's Mars. She's crazy as fuck, and she likes to play with fire."

"You got a type, huh?"

"Seems like." Laxus' phone started ringing. He huffed and pulled it out and saw an unfamiliar number. "Dreyar," he answered.

"Hi, Detective."

"Miss Strauss."

Jellal gave him and look and started to stand, perhaps thinking that he wanted privacy.

"I shot and killed Superintendent Tores. Please come arrest me."

Laxus grabbed Jellal's shoulder and pulled him back down. "Pardon?"

"I walked into his hospital room and killed him for hurting Elfman. I committed murder."

"Where are you?"

"Somnium."

"Stay there. I'm coming."

"Hurry." She hung up.

"What was that?"

"We need a car."

"For what?"

Laxus made himself spit it out when keeping the knowledge with him until he died felt like the _better_ and _easier_ thing to do. Mira would be happier. "Lisanna Strauss says she was the one that shot Tores. We have to go pick her up."

Beyond a heavy sigh, Jellal said not a word as he stood and started for the hospital again. Laxus was slower, more careful with his steps because to walk faster was to fall off a ledge and the ground beneath was looking a lot like bedlam.


	35. Chapter 35

Mira's feet smacked against the ground as she practically ran from the hospital. Her veins beat with sick excitement but she didn't feel liberated. She didn't feel better. She still felt less without Elfman. She still felt like she failed. Running helped. Cutting in front of a truck at the intersection helped, too. A horn blared; her dark purple scrubs didn't stand out very well in the encroaching darkness. The next intersection she did the same thing. And again as she trekked across a busy road. This time, the car that almost smoked her swerved and pulled a U turn. Mira's heart beat even more frantically and she felt a little bit alive as the Mercedes revved and quickly pulled in to the curb beside her. The door opened and the danger Mira had been flirting with didn't lessen.

"Get in."

Mira looked up and down the road before climbing into the back seat. The door closed behind her and she felt very closed off from the rest of the world. The inside of the car smelled like leather, alcohol, and cigarettes. The only time she'd seen Zeref indulge, things weren't going his way or he had to make decisions that weighed heavily on him.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Mira said.

Zeref smiled and the car started driving again. "I'd never let you walk off with evidence that could be linked back to me, Mira."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That I don't trust you. Change." He handed off a bag for her inspection. Inside was a black dress with a low neckline. It was something that she'd choose to wear to entertain Zeref if he was buying.

"I'm not working tonight."

"No, you're not. But you were."

"Are you my alibi?" she asked, understanding.

"Me and about ten other people that saw us come into Red's for dinner."

Mira expelled her breath and started changing there in the back seat. Sometimes, it was awkward, having to kneel and twist to get the dress low where it belonged. The driver kept his eyes on the road and Zeref watched her with the same detached interest he had earlier that day. He was stiff, she could see it through his pants, and Mira thought he would touch her again; she half hoped. He never did and she didn't go looking for it, either.

"Other than that cop that saw you, I think this will be tied up neatly. We can clip that loose end, though."

Of course, his 'guard' told him about Laxus. Mira tasted iron. "He only saw me for a second; he was distracted and barely talked to me."

"Do you like him, Mira?" Zeref's eyes burned through her.

She didn't like to beg. She did it like a champ. "Please don't hurt him."

" _You_ were the one who said you didn't want to be implicated."

"I know, but—"

Zeref's smile got vicious. "Maybe if he keeps his mouth closed I'm kind enough to let him live." It was all about power; he wanted the upper hand and was pleased when he had it. "After all, we have a fall person—"

"You do?" She felt a ridiculous amount of selfish relief and then guilt.

"A convincing one, with a story air-tight, who wants to help."

Mira made herself say the words. "If they're innocent—"

"They're not."

_Not._ She breathed out and wriggled the dress down around her hips. "Thank you."

"I should be saying the same thing. You scratched out a blight in the Dragneel history and you gave me the opportunity to clear up any bad blood between us." There was a mean glint in his eye and Mira knew she wasn't in on some private joke. That was alright, Zeref could be mean all he liked. She knew how to do this dance.

"About what happened with Acnologia—"

"Don't worry about it anymore, Mira. I know you were doing what was best for your family."

"Exactly."

He smiled. "Natsu told me I was overreacting. He might have been right; it's been stressful lately. Don't forget shoes." He handed her strappy black heels.

While Mira did away with the running shoes and squished her foot into more dress-appropriate attire, she said what she thought her _Tante_ would want her to say. "Somnium has a wide array of pleasures if you care to visit."

"I don't." That was like a slap in the face. Mira took it with a smile that felt colder than ice on her mouth. The car turned onto Somnium's street and Zeref said, "Give me the gun." She took it out of her scrubs' pocket and handed it over. Zeref immediately turned it on her. Mira stared down the barrel with her heart beating hard. The trigger depressed and nothing happened. "I guess Natsu doesn't trust me, either."

It had been Natsu, after all, that had given her only one bullet and told her to be wary of his brother. "Why would he when you prove time and time again you're a motherfucker?"

Zeref leaned in so he was inches from her. "I guess. I suppose if he _knows_ what kind of man I am, nothing I do will ever be a surprise."

She didn't understand what he meant and she didn't want to stick around to ask, either. The car was slowing and Somnium was in sight. The only thing that was _wrong_ with it was that there was an unmarked cruiser parked at the front doors. She knew it was a cop car only because she could see the cage in the back, separating it from the front seat.

"Seems like Somnium has guests." Zeref's tone was full of wry humor as the car rolled to a stop. He faced Mira and his eyes were the blackest things she'd ever seen. "Consider us even. Take care, Mira." His mouth was cold on her cheek. Mira pulled out of his range and exited the car, leaving behind the scrubs and the gun and the devil she dealt with. She felt rusty as she approached Somnium's entrance; or like she was in someone else's body. It was hard going.

The door was unlocked and inside, there was no quiet drone of music that usually played as the bar and bordello got ready for business. Voices were raised; Erza's, Eileen's, and Laxus'. Mira found them at the table beneath the stage. The only ones that didn't seem to have their mouths open were Lisanna and Jellal.

Lisanna looked up when she heard Somnium's door close and Mira realized two things: Lisanna's hands were in cuffs and she'd been crying. "What's happening?" Everyone quieted and faced her but no one volunteered any information. "Someone tell me what's happening. Now," Mira added for emphasis.

Laxus broke the silence spell, though it looked like he spoke around a grapefruit in his throat. "Lisanna says she killed Superintendent Tores, Mira. We're bringing her in for—"

Mira didn't even hear what came next. Suddenly, Zeref's superior attitude made sense. _This_ was how they were even. This was his foolproof fall person. The one other person in the world that would want Superintendent Tores dead as much as she did, for the same reasons. Lisanna had a violent history and it was _believable._ "No. No, she didn't."

"We're just taking her in for questioning," Jellal spoke in that methodical way he had that Mira thought she liked when she first met him; now it grated on her.

"Let her go right now." Mira crossed Somnium's scuffed floors in her heels and almost twisted her ankle. Handcuffed or not, Lisanna caught her and held her bicep _hard._

"Leave it, Mira."

"You're making a mistake," Mira said over her and jerked out of Lisanna's grasp. "It wasn't Lisanna. She was here. I was the one. I was at the hospital. I—"

"She's _lying_ to protect me," Lisanna barked. "She was entertaining Zeref. She said goodbye to me before she left at two. When was Tores killed?"

Mira recovered. "This is a _lie_. I saw—"

"Enough, Mira." _Tante_ Eileen spoke with vicious authority. "Stop trying to protect her. I approved your visit with Zeref myself."

" _What_?" Mira squawked.

"I have the paperwork. Zeref paid upfront."

Mira decided then that she hated her. She looked to Erza for help and got only stoicism. Maybe Mira hated her, too. "Erza, please."

Erza took her hand and squeezed it. "Let them take her in for questioning, Mira."

She'd get no quarter there. " _Laxus_."

He looked disquieted. "It's only questioning. Nothing's going to happen until she signs a confession."

"Come on." Jellal's hand hovered over Lisanna's back. "This way."

Lisanna went without hesitation. Mira growled. " _I_ did it. _I'm_ the one. Arrest _me_."

Lisanna rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Mira." To Laxus she said, "I hid the gun and the scrubs I used to impersonate a nurse in the bus terminal on Vesper. Locker forty-one. My fingerprints are even on it."

Jellal took out his phone to make the call to get someone over there.

"They were mine!"

No one listened to Mira. She lunged for Jellal and Erza grabbed her arm, catching her up short. When Mira twisted from her grasp, Erza grabbed her again and this time, she took Mira to the ground and kept her there.

* * *

It took sneaking enough Valium into Mira's water to fell a small horse to get her to _calm down._ Erza brought her upstairs and though she was running out of time, Gildarts would show up shortly and take her to the hospital and together, they'd bring Kyouka home, she didn't rush. Mira had stopped crying just a few minutes ago and now she lay on her bed in the _Iris_ room limp and red nosed. Erza combed her fingers through hair so blonde, it was white and kept all of her anger hidden away.

"Do you need anything? Water? Or something to eat?"

"No." Mira shook her head slowly. "But Erza, _listen_." She'd been saying _that_ for about fifteen minutes. _Listen, Erza, you have to_ listen _._ "It was _me,_ Erza," Mira said in a monotone voice. "I _was_ the one that shot him. _I_ did it."

Erza said the only thing she could. "I know."

"I want her back."

"I know."

" _Now_." Her words were whispered with vehemence.

"Shh."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"There wasn't much _to_ say. What could I do?" Erza didn't like to feel helpless; Mira was shoving her into that corner with ease.

" _Stop_ them."

"I couldn't. She had all of the paperwork and Lisanna knew where to find the gun."

Mira growled. "Her and Zeref and Eileen. They all lied. They did it together."

Erza let her fingers brush across Mira's forehead and down her cheek, terminating on her chin. She tipped Mira's head her way. "They're better liars than us." Hopefully, not for long.

"I want her back."

"She won't be where she is for long," Erza promised, even if she had to walk into the prison herself to bust Lisanna out.

Mira's glassy eyes came to hers. "You'll help me?"

"Yes."

For the first time in an hour, Mira looked something other than totally downtrodden. "How do we do it?"

"We play the same game everyone else is, Mira. The long game. Lisanna will go to prison for this. _Let her_."

"Let her?" Mira repeated.

"Yes. I'm going to fix this. Hear me out," she said when Mira started to argue. "We'll get her the best lawyers. She'll plead insanity and be sent to the asylum. You'll be cleared and when the time is right, we'll lean on every connection we have and we'll get her out."

" _How_? We don't _have_ those kinds of connections."

"Not yet," Erza said. "But that's going to change. I'm going to fix this," she said again. "I _promise,_ Mira. You have a part to play too, though, okay?"

Mira sat up a little and her hair was a curtain of white-gold. "Which?"

"You can be upset that Lisanna is going to go to prison but stop telling everyone it was you that did it. When enough time passes, you're going to start being yourself again. No more tears for Elfman, no more screaming for Lisanna. You're going to be the girl you were _before_ all of this happened, alright? Because that's the girl that people are going to trust. The ingénue one. That's the one that's going to get to know the right people."

"I don't know if I can be that person," Mira said quietly.

"Don't give me that, of course, you can. We're going to be the new face of Somnium, Mira, you and me, but we can't do what we need to do if you're up here sobbing. I need you to do what you do best. You're going to talk to people and I'll do my job. My mother knows people which means that soon I will, too. We just need some time."

"Lisanna—"

"Can wait for us to do this right," Erza said with finality. "She'll be fine for a few months."

Mira hung onto her words and Erza hoped that she wasn't just bullshitting, that in a few months, she'd build up the contacts needed to fix this. As her mother said, as _Tante_ , it was her job to protect everyone. She kissed Mira's mouth lightly. "You should make nice with Jellal and Laxus, too. You never know when a friend on the MPD will come in handy." She felt so much shrewder then, not the Erza Scarlet that thought she could run from this and outmaneuver it, but someone new, Erza Scarlet, Eileen Belserion's daughter. She could be conniving. She could outfox her mother.

"Laxus—"

Erza was making a career of not letting her speak. "Was only doing his job. Don't blame him, Mira. he didn't want to take her away." She knew Mira knew it, too.

Mira sighed. Erza brushed her hair back again. "Have a bath or something, relax. I'll be home in an hour or two and when I am, we'll spend some time together."

Mira didn't acknowledge her offer; nor did she deny it. Erza left her there and returned to her own room to get ready. Her hair went beneath a short black wig and foundation covered her freckles. Contouring made her face look like someone else's. She dressed in a black pencil skirt and a pink button-down dress shirt. For shoes, she chose a pair of black kitten heels. These were the most respectable clothes she owned; she felt like a fraud.

Her phone hummed and when she checked the message, it was Gildarts saying, _Text me a selfie. Make it good and make it quick.'_

She didn't give him a hard time like she normally would have, asking things like _'What are you going to do with it?'_ She just got the job done.

Gildarts texted her back and said, _Be there in fifteen._

She finished getting ready and descended the stairs. In Somnium's heart, she didn't seek out her mother to ask about her and Zeref's dirty setup after Eileen promised to keep Lisanna safe. Erza needed some time to calm down and collect herself and figure out how she should pretend to feel. Aloof, seeing things in her mother's light when Eileen fed her the bullshit line of, ' _there is no better way to keep everyone safe. Lisanna is in the best place she can be'_. There was no reason for Eileen to know that she planned on breaking Lisanna out, either. She'd do things her way and this time, she wouldn't fuck up like she did before. No one was going to get one up on her again.

A silver Lincoln waited for her on the curb. She climbed into the passenger's seat and Gildarts handed her an ID badge with the picture she'd sent to him. Despite how he must have rushed, it looked professional. "Grace Slick?" she read.

"You know, after the singer."

She looked at him dryly. "Did you just rip off Supernatural?"

He shrugged. "Why not have some fun, _Tante_? Besides, _White Rabbit_ was fucking awesome. Remember you used to bop to it all the time?"

Yeah, sitting up above Somnium, breathing shallowly through her mouth so the cigarette smoke didn't burn her nose too badly while below, men and women drank and did drugs and deals. Great memories. "What does yours say, 'Robert Plant?'"

"Mike Jackson."

"You're so _lame._ "

"Hurtful."

"Drive, Gildarts. How much time do we have?"

"Two hours at most," he said, glancing at the dash and working the car into gear. Before he took his foot off the break he asked, "How did your mother feel about you doing this?"

"She knows, if that's what you're asking," Erza said.

"It's not."

She sighed. "Don't worry, I'm sure she won't blame you for long. You can go back to being her lapdog, taking scraps when he's offered."

He didn't flinch like she hoped, though he did get tart. "You may be _Tante_ now, Erza, but you have a lot to learn. You can get away with talking to me like that but let me give you some advice, treat those under you with respect and you'll never have someone like Kyouka trying to take your feet from under you."

"What's my mother's excuse?" Erza asked as a way to deflect the blame.

Gildarts started to drive. "Who said she needed one?"

The way he said it prompted Erza to ask, "What do you mean?"

He said, "Your mother plays a complex game. I used to keep up with all of her tricks but I lost track a long time ago."

"Are you saying she knew Kyouka was going to betray her?"

"Do you know Eileen Belserion to be ignorant?"

No, not at all. "Why would she…?"

"Capitalize on Kyouka's greed? Upheaval. When all the pieces are thrown into the air they have to land somewhere. Your mother likes to gamble and took her chances letting Kyouka continue. Now you're _Tante_ and Zeref and Acnologia hate each other so much, they're on the brink of war."

Either way she looked at it… "She wins."

"She _always_ wins," Gildarts replied. "now listen up, I've got a crew meeting us to transfer the body. I got the paperwork, you have the smile; show me."

Erza didn't know if he was serious or not until he looked over and waved her on. She tried one that most found charming. Gildarts smiled back. "No wig and you'd look just like her."

"Don't get any ideas," Erza said.

Gildarts curled his lip and got back to business. "Once we have her, you and I are going to escort the transport to our building on Docker. We'll loop around to make sure we weren't followed while they switch vehicles. Everything's good, we'll bring her back to Somnium, hole her up in the basement and voila."

Easy.

"Are you going to tell me what happened to your face?" He'd used cover up to hide a bad bruise and he'd done a pretty good job, too, but Erza knew a thing or two about that move.

"Yeah, your boyfriend."

She frowned. "He's not really."

"Alright, the cop you don't want me to kill thinks he's got a get out of jail free card."

"Because he does," Erza heard herself saying.

Gildarts looked at her reproachfully. "He's the reason we're here—"

"If he didn't want to kill her in cold blood, Gildarts, don't punish him for that. We should be celebrating." She felt very much like the woman her mother wanted her to be then, cold and practical and praising those that were what she could not be. "There aren't enough honest men in the world." Or women for that matter. The population couldn't stand a culling.

Gildarts sighed and Erza knew she'd won.

* * *

The mortician was a tall and wiry man with a thin-lipped mouth, sallow skin, and dark hair that seemed like it was perpetually messy. He took Gildarts' paperwork without looking at it and signed release documents. While they waited for the crew to arrive, Gildarts entertained him. He was a talker. Erza walked through the morgue to the sound of his familiar voice. She'd never been in one before and was disgusted by the meaty smell that greeted her now. It reminded her so much of a butcher shop that she wondered if she could ever eat meat again.

Each refrigerator drawer in the wall had a name card jammed into a glass panel on the front. Not every single one was full. She looked for Kyouka's and found it on her second pass. Her stomach rioted when she touched the drawer and imagined pulling it out to see Kyouka's face, ashen in false death. That wasn't the worse of it—imaging what her mother was going to do to Kyouka when she finally woke took that mantle.

The door opened, interrupting her thoughts, and two men came through with a stretcher and a body bag. Erza stepped out of the way as they came to Kyouka's fridge and pulled it out. Though she'd been fearful. she felt almost nothing when she saw Kyouka's bruised lids. Things might be different when she was sitting in Somnium and the odd scream came through the floor. Maybe.

Her phone chimed. Gildarts gave her a filthy look from where he still spoke to the mortician. She ignored his crankiness and checked the text. _Can I see you tonight? It's important._ Jellal's name made her mouth move into a smile and then back to a frown. She ended up smiling again, though less brightly than before as she texted back, _Come by Somnium around twelve._

She got a thumbs up in return and … _Gildarts?_

_You don't have any reason to worry._

The men gathered Kyouka up and stuffed her into the body bag. Erza put her phone back into her purse and followed them out through the back of the hospital.

* * *

Erza made Gildarts take her to a coffee shop after so that they were well behind Kyouka's arrival at Somnium. Despite the time she'd given everything to settle, standing out front on Somnium's stoop. she could hear screaming through the walls, very, very faint. It wasn't something that lasted very long. She imagined that on the other side, Kyouka was being pulled into the door behind the bar and being forced into the soundproofed room below.

"Do you know what she's going to do to her?"

"Don't think too much on it, _Tante_ ," Gildarts said. "You have people to worry about it for you."

"I do worry, though."

"I guess that's inevitable. You won't always; not all of the work is ugly."

"Just sometimes."

"You do the ugly work and you do it well so you have to do it less," he replied. "When people hear how you handled Kyouka's betrayal, they'll respect you. You'll need that being new."

"Everyone thinks she's dead already." Or they would soon.

"Leave it to me," he said and opened the door.

* * *

At midnight on the dot, Jellal checked his hair in his car's rear view one more time before getting out. The man that looked back at him had eyes that had bruises beneath them that a run hadn't fixed—he needed a good night's sleep for that—a cheek swollen from Gildarts' abuse and scruff that needed a good shave. He also had tufts of unruly hair. It was everywhere; he'd forgotten to brush it after his shower. He combed his fingers through it now. it helped very little. His clothes were clean, though, he was dead sober, and he no longer smelled like gun powder and blood and hospitals.

Rain glazed over his overlarge rain jacket as he got out of his car. He didn't bother with the hood; the wet could only help his bad hair. He slicked it all back when it was drenched and got caught preening by Angel, who guarded the front entrance. There was a hollowness to her that Jellal recognized because he saw it in himself and in his partner, too. She'd lost someone close to her.

Despite the melancholy, she looked up at him with a vicious smile and said, "Just roll out of bed, Fernandez?"

"Haven't been, Agria."

"I wish that was the only reason you looked like shit to me but I just fucking hate cops."

"Can I get in or not?"

" _Tante_ Erza said to let you in," she replied. "Gildarts told me he'd like to shoot you on sight."

"Guess it's a good thing that Erza's the boss then, huh?"

" _Tante_ ," Angel corrected and Jellal agreed.

" _Tante_."

Angel stepped aside and Jellal went past her. He felt more nervous now than when he'd hired Erza that first night years ago. Despite his working for a Matriarch of an infamous bordello, Erza had been the first escort he'd ever paid for; the others had come to his bed without coercion. He had no illusions, Erza would never have entertained him if she hadn't needed something from him that night. Now that she had, though, he thought he could get her to come back without the lure of money. Maybe.

Somnium was empty, which was strange for this time of night. He hadn't checked to see if there was an _Open_ sign flashing in the window. Music that poured from the speakers came to an end and everything was silent for an instant. Jellal heard something high and reedy that made his skin lift in goosebumps. He started to follow the sound toward the door behind the bar. Fiona Apple's _Criminal_ came on and drowned out the sound but it was all he could hear.

"Jellal?"

And her voice.

He turned and saw Erza leaning against the bannister up above. Her long red hair was gone and her clothes weren't her usual fare. He left the door behind and ascended the stairs. This close, he realized that her face was different, too. That was makeup; he wasn't sure about her hair yet. Her hand still felt the same closing on his fingers. He followed her down the hall to the door designed with bleeding hearts. Inside the room smelled like perfume and hair product and Erza. She closed the door and locked it before heaving a huge sigh.

"Did anyone give you any trouble?"

"Just Angel, but that's usual." Angel's favourite thing to do was harass the local PD.

"I think she's just sad. Yukino…"

It was Erza that was sad. Jellal understood. _Tante_ Alba had also been sensitive; she didn't like it when people got hurt for her. "I'm sorry, Erza."

"She was nice. A lot nicer than Angel," Erza said with a forced smile. "We'll all get over it."

Everyone had a huge pill to swallow.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

Jellal shrugged. "I have a funeral to plan, I guess. Laxus and I can get some catalogues together and sit down over coffee and gush about which caskets look the best." Like women did on their wedding day.

Erza didn't laugh so he assumed that it was a bad joke. "I have people now that do that kind of stuff if you want help."

He shook his head. "I'd like to do it on my own."

She smiled and it was a limp thing. "That's alright, I have to help Mira with Elfman's."

Jellal knew that they wouldn't be able to avoid the topic of Mira, not for long, but he didn't suspect that they'd get there so soon. "I didn't want to arrest Lisanna but I didn't have a choice, Erza. We found the gun and the scrubs and the hospital cameras were mysteriously out. She knew details about the murder, though, and signed a confession of her own volition."

"As far as any jury will be concerned, she's guilty."

"And what do you think?"

"I think you're trying to pump me for information that I don't have," Erza said decisively.

Jellal sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's your job." She started looking on her dresser for makeup remover. "Why don't you take off your coat?"

His bulky and soaking wet coat? "I wasn't going to stay for too long, I just wanted to ask you about our Tahoe and…" Erza started unbuttoning her pink shirt and Jellal trailed off.

"You could ask that stuff while you're comfortable," she said. Jellal said nothing. Her fingers stilled on her buttons so she could turn and apply them to Jellal's. How many men had she taken out of a raincoat? Jellal thought he was the only one lame enough to come to her like this. Everyone else would do something with themselves first, make sure that they looked presentable enough for Erza Scarlet.

She didn't give him much time to be embarrassed. His jacket was over his shoulders and Erza was fingering the bulletproof vest he'd donned. "What's this?" There was a smile on her lips.

Jellal looked at her sheepishly. "I didn't know what to expect."

"You're safe here."

"A lawman safe in Somnium. Today feels like a strange day."

"Somnium has a new Matriarch," she said as she released him and went to her dresser. There, she pulled off the wig she'd been wearing and her hair came tumbling out. Jellal didn't realize how scared he'd been that she'd actually cut and dyed it until he saw the scarlet. He sat on her bed and watched her take off her makeup next. Her freckles revealed themselves one at a time. When that was through, she went back to undoing her shirt. The bra she wore was black lace.

"Do you want it?"

"The job?" Erza looked at him through the mirror. "I didn't at first but things are different now."

"Can I keep seeing you?"

She got the same pained expression she always did. "Somnium's Matriarch entertaining an MPD Detective…"

He didn't beg her; actions were much more concise than words. Erza watched him rise and cross to her. Her shoulders were stiff when he took them in his hands and found a spot on her neck to kiss. She didn't push him off. He made his way to her ear, knowing that she liked that.

"You came here about your car?" Erza asked the ceiling.

"It's in one of your factories, _Tante,_ sitting in the loading dock of Six-Twenty Walker." She was leaning into him and he took that as an invitation to grab her. He couldn't decide if he liked the black bra or not. It was a tease. He could see through the thin lace, but not _enough._

"I suppose you need it back."

"I'd like it, yes." Jellal left the bra where it was and satisfied himself with filling both hands, letting his other go to her behind. He kissed her neck, an inch closer to her mouth. A shiver moved through her body. Her head tipped, tempting him higher and Jellal was never one to waste an opportunity. Her chin tasted like expensive perfume, her cheek like makeup remover. Her mouth still tasted like the lipstick she'd yet to rub off.

Like last time, she was reluctant to give anything up but he worked her until she didn't really think about what he was doing, touching her to distract from what he was doing with his lips. When he took his mouth from hers, she looked relieved and, desperate to bring things to a place where she thought she had control, she started pulling on the Velcro of his vest.

"My car, _Tante_ ," Jellal reminded her.

"We can talk about it later, can't we?"

He asked, "Has it been a long day?" He _knew_ Erza liked to pant her stress away; he just wanted to hear her say it.

"You have no idea."

He took it upon himself to get out of his vest. The undershirt he wore was damp with sweat. That, too, went to the ground and Jellal pulled Erza back in. He gave her a moment and kissed just in front of her ear. "Just one more thing. I won't get shot if I go for it? The Tahoe?"

"I'll have Gildarts bring it to you," she said absently. Her fingers snaked into his hair and she brought him in closer. Her skin was warm and soft and the fabric of her bra scratchy. She was all contradictions, always. He felt the bed at the back of his knees and thought it was a good time to start working on Erza's skirt. He struggled; there were clasps down the back, not a zipper and button. He pulled the fabric up instead and was happier for it. The panties at least weren't booby-trapped. Those came off exactly like he thought they should.

When she was as bare as he cared to make her, Jellal guided her by the waist to the mattress. He knew she liked it on top but she liked it on bottom, too, when she wasn't thinking about things like _I need all the control always so no one can do anything terrible to me again._ It was a great show of faith that she let him lay her down and it wasn't without issue. She tried twice to adjust their situations. He stroked between her legs and kissed through the material of her bra and Erza forgot to be overly careful. He got her stretching and sweating and sobbing and then he slid into her. She scored his back and he took it as punishment for pushing her. It didn't last long; he found the bud between her legs and she was distracted again. When she came, her cries got loud and her muscles got loose. He kissed her and she kept him there by wrapping her arms around his throat. It was her pleased gasp moaned out on his tongue more than the constant and alluring pulse of her body that had him at the edge and toeing over. He worked his fingers through threads of scarlet silk and buried himself in deep.

They stayed like that for long seconds, Erza's breath breaking across his cheek and her body twitching. Jellal dared to kiss her again and was given her cheek. She was going to make him work for everything. That was alright, he didn't mind. He asked, "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I'm busy tomorrow," she replied while staring at the ceiling.

He didn't get deterred. "The day after?"

She turned her head back and looked at him. "Jellal…"

"I have a bottle of tequila and I know about this cool old building with a shopping cart that's good for races."

Her mouth quirked. "Don't you need two to race?"

"Show up tomorrow night and I'll show you."

"Don't you work?"

"Technically, I'm still on leave," he said. "Until Captain says otherwise." Meredy said Ultear was getting out of the hospital tomorrow and while he was relieved, he was also terrified of whatever she might have to say when she read the reports. Anything to push off the punishment coming his way. "What do you say?"

She still looked hesitant.

"Well, I'll be there at eleven. If you decide to come, you can bring some limes." He got off of her without kissing her again, though he wanted to.

Erza said only, "Your car will be left at the station."

Jellal dressed, donning his vest last. He wasn't _careless_. "Thanks."

She didn't respond.

Downstairs, Eileen Belserion stood behind the bar with a glass of something tall and clear. She sucked it back and winced. Jellal focused on the weight of his vest and felt brave enough to ask, "Who do you have screaming in the basement?"

Eileen said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Detective."

"Was I imagining it, then?"

Her smile was sly. "I couldn't say."

That was best, anyway, he decided, he didn't need to think about the why's and the how's, he could focus on the _I'm just imagining's_ and ignore that he heard the impossible when he walked in. He could ignore, too, that he did nothing about it.

"Are you going to be seeing my daughter again, Detective?"

"If she'll agree," Jellal replied.

Eileen said, "I'd be happier if she wouldn't."

"I'm sure you would be, _Tante._ "

"That being said, you're better than the last."

"High praise."

"It is." She swirled her drink. "Am I invited to the funeral?"

"Could I stop you from coming?"

"Not likely," she said. " _Tante_ Alba and I had a mutual respect and I'd like to say goodbye."

"I'll call when I know the details."

She smiled and it was Erza's. "Go on now, before you get yourself into trouble."

"Goodbye, _Tante_."

"Goodbye, Detective."

* * *

The coffee was strong and his grandfather's pipe smelled familiar. Laxus breathed in the stench and spun the corner of his cigarettes around and around, flicking it with his middle finger. His grandfather watched and though he must have been annoyed, he didn't say anything. At one end of the table, Porlyusica was on the phone with the funeral home, on the other, Wendy rubbed some invisible dirt off Sailor Mercury's face, looking miserable.

"I know a guy at a scrap yard," Laxus tried. "He gets old cars in all the time."

Wendy lifted her gaze and turned her mouth down. Laxus knew that look. It wasn't the _same_ car. It wasn't a 1959 pink Cadillac convertible with a 345 V8 horsepower engine that her grandmother gave to her. What the hell did Wendy know, anyway? More than he gave her credit for. Laxus forwent putting his chin in his palm and rested his cheek on the table. It was while he was there, staring at the scarred wood basking in his misery, listening to Porlyusica drone on that he heard a familiar roar. Wendy's eyes came up and locked with Laxus'. He didn't move, not even when he heard the tires on the interlock driveway and the engine die. It was Wendy that got out of her seat first. Laxus got himself up and followed on her heels. He arrived at the doorway just barely before she did and only because he used his long legs to his advantage. He kept the door closed and listened, partially afraid they were about to have an unwanted visitor.

"Hurry," Wendy barked and tried to go around him. Laxus held her off and opened the door. Beyond, the Cadillac sat in the driveway looking unharmed. Wendy escaped his hold and raced out to inspect it. Laxus came slower, surveying the area. A woman with long dark hair on the opposite side of the road caught his eye. She winked and waved and set out on her way. She had a very particular swagger that could only be learned at the hip of a rogue. He started to go after her but stopped when a Charger he knew all too well pulled into his driveway. Jellal got out with a six of Stella Artois and a magnet to pull out the dents; Beau jumped out after him. Beau came for Laxus, did a circle around his legs and then ditched when she saw Wendy. Jellal came slower, eyes on the Cadillac. "I thought I saw that thing cruising around downtown."

"Just arrived."

"Guess it could have worked out worse."

"I haven't checked to see if there're any scratches," Laxus muttered.

"I'm sure if there are, Wendy will let us know." Jellal held up his spoils, "Now's a good time?"

"As good a time as any," Laxus said.

"Where's your grandfather?"

"Inside. Porlyusica's on the phone setting up Ivan's funeral and keeping him company."

"The noise isn't going to bother them?"

Laxus shrugged. "It's been a ghost town here; a bit of noise will do this place good." He took out his key fob and pressed the button that opened his garage door. There his Plymouth sat in all of its dented and broken windshield glory.

"I called the guy to get the windshield done, he's going to be here in twenty," Jellal said.

"Service."

"Yeah." He clapped Laxus on the shoulder as he walked by. "Let's see if we can get your ass print out of it."

* * *

The funeral wasn't much of a funeral. The priest Porlyusica had called showed up and said some prayers over an urn and Laxus thought that was more than his father deserved. Jellal was there, so was Wendy and Porlyusica. His grandfather showed after much coercion. Makarov accepted Ivan's role in it all very reluctantly and his death was an even harder pill to swallow. Laxus thought his grandfather still hadn't completely come to terms with it. Maybe that was for the best. Senility came for him more and more in the days to follow. He forgot things like what he'd been saying ten minutes earlier, where he'd put his pills (conveniently, Laxus was sure) and that he wasn't allowed to mindlessly wander the streets.

On the days he remembered his son was dead, he was spitting mad.

Laxus didn't know what to say to make it better so he spent as much time as he could out in the garage doing a massive overhaul of the Plymouth's engine. Today he was changing the spark plugs and wires. Tomorrow, he'd do the belt; he thought he saw some cracks on it that morning when he was getting ready to do an oil change.

He turned the last spark plug, getting it in snugly but not too snugly when the garage door opened. "I'll just be another minute," Laxus said, thinking that it was Porlyusica. She'd called him for dinner a long time ago.

"I think you're okay out here."

The sound of her familiar voice in a place it had never been before jarred him badly enough that when Laxus stood, he cracked his head on the hood of his Plymouth. "Ow, fuck." He rubbed the spot and turned. Mira's smile was half-cocked and didn't reach her eyes, not wholly. She looked a little bit glad to see him but under that was a sadness that was like a mire. He got caught in it like a fly in honey. "How did you get in here?"

"Your grandfather said that I could find you out here."

"I'll have to talk to him about selling me out," Laxus joked.

Mira wasn't in much of a laughing mood. "Do you not want me here?"

"No," Laxus said immediately. "I mean, I _do_. I'm glad you're here." He chewed his tongue hard after that.

Mira was unmoved by his fumbling-was she glad to hear it? Turned off? Who the fuck knew? She came down the stairs in a pair of shiny black tights and a top redder than sin that the pale skin of her belly peeped out of when she stepped. "I didn't know you did your own work."

Laxus shrugged and hoped that it was nonchalantly. "I like it. Clears my head."

"I've been looking to do that lately."

He wiped his hands on the rag he had draped on his hood and faced her more directly. His skin prickled when she came much closer than he thought she ever would again. "What do you like to do to get your mind off things?"

"That depends." She ran her fingers over the car's frame. "Does it run?"

"Yeah, it should run now." He looked over his shoulder to make sure that all sixteen spark plugs were where they should be. He didn't want to embarrass himself.

"Maybe you could take me for a ride?"

Laxus wondered if he should have thought more about his answer as he closed the hood and opened the passenger's door for her. Mira's heels rap-tap-tapped as she climbed inside. Laxus got in the other side and hit the button for the garage door. It rolled up and he started the engine. "Seatbelt."

She obeyed and watched him work the car into drive. He revved the engine and she smiled. It wasn't without worry yet but he was determined to make it that way. "Where do you want to go?"

"Train tracks," she said. A long and nearly empty stretch of country road. "And I want to go fast."

"That's what this car was built for." He waited until he was pulling onto the road to squeal the tires; he was sure that his grandfather wouldn't appreciate burned rubber on the garage's cement floor. He took the back route to the tracks. It wasn't the fastest way but Mira didn't seem to care. She undid her window and leaned out into the cool spring air.

"Faster."

Laxus put his foot down and the RPM's jumped. The car lurched forward and Mira's laugh was grabbed by the wind.

"Faster."

"Hold on," he said when the dirt road came into view. There was farm field on either side; he used the clear line of sight to check for coming traffic. He saw no one so he slowed just enough that the car wouldn't roll when he came onto the road and then, part way through the turn, gunned it. Mira laughed again and undid her seatbelt. Laxus couldn't catch her scooting up and putting her butt on the sill. He tasted fear and grabbed her leg. Mira peeked beneath the frame and her eyes were bright. "Don't slow down."

"Like hell. Get in here, Mira."

She ignored him. "Go faster." There was a smile on her mouth that was genuine and a spark in her eye. "Come on."

Laxus was afraid for her up there but he was also undeniably thrilled when she smacked her palms on the roof and demanded, "Faster!" one more time. This was the first time he'd ever heard her laugh like this and he wanted to keep the high going. He put his foot down on the gas. She let go of the frame and put her hands in the air, free, and the feeling was catching. Laxus didn't think about _his bullet_ , he didn't think about his grandfather's failing mental state, he didn't think about his partner tangled up with a crime boss's daughter. He didn't think about the Cardinal case and the girls he couldn't save. He thought about nothing but the danger and he loved it. He stomped his foot down again and pushed the car well past what was safe. When they came over the tracks, Mira almost bounced out. Only his hold on her leg kept her in. She swung back in and it wasn't to yell or to get shaky, it was to put her mouth on his neck and her body on his. Laxus almost drove off the road when she grabbed between his legs. He slowed to a reasonable speed when she got his pants undone but never stopped, not until she lifted up again to tell him to pull over.

Cars passed and Mira didn't care; the train rumbled by and drown out her cries. She made Laxus hold her tight enough to bruise and fucked him even after he came, pushing herself and pushing; always pushing the boundaries. She was covered in sweat and Laxus came again before she climbed off of him. Afterward, there were no kisses or gentle touches. No hand holding. In fact, she didn't even say much beyond, "I need to get back to Somnium."

Laxus started the car and drove more reasonably back the way they came. Mira braided her hair in the breeze. In the silence that spun between them, Laxus got it in his head that it was a good idea to ask the question that had plagued him since the day Tores was killed. "Why were you at the hospital that day?"

She looked at him and said candidly, "I wanted to kill the man that killed my brother."

His stomach turned. "What happened?"

Just as straight-faced she said, "I lost my taste for murder and I went out with Zeref."

They fell into silence again and it was almost a relief to pull into Somnium's lot.

Without looking away from the windshield, Mira asked, "Will you come see me tomorrow?"

"I'd like to."

"I'm not working upstairs tomorrow night; Erza said I could try to do the bar if I wanted and I thought why not? Come by near the end of my shift. You can have a drink and then afterward…"

"Alright."

She started to get out. Laxus caught her hand and brought her back. She kissed him and it was like fire, burning him up like birch bark. She was gone just as fast. Laxus watched her twitch into Somnium and pulled away only after the door closed and took her from view.

* * *

Lisanna scribbled on a piece of halved bristol board with the green crayon Mira brought in for her. What she was drawing wasn't as beautiful as she could make with pencils and pens. She'd had hers taken away from her, though, for stabbing a boy that looked at her strangely. She didn't regret it as much as she thought she _should_.

The common room's locked door opened and a woman walked through. Her long dark hair was braided and hung over her shoulder. Her eyes came immediately to Lisanna and _stuck_. When she walked, it was with grace, her head was held high and her steps elegant, even in the cheap runners _Magnolia's Institution for the Criminally Insane_ gave to them. She made for Lisanna's table without hesitance. That was a change. The first day Lisanna had arrived, she'd had plenty of people come to talk to her; they'd all gone away, though. Afraid. If anyone talked to her now it was wardens or it was Mira when she visited. Every day at eleven. Her sister was a creature of habit.

When she came closer, Lisanna read her nametag. _Kagura._ She didn't ask if she _could_ sit at Lisanna's table, she just did. "Do you like art?" were the first words spoken between them.

The woman shrugged. "Not pretty art."

Lisanna gave her the crayon rendition of the murder she wished she committed.

"What is it?"

"Blood. Cardinal blood. I think this is how he looked when he bled."

Kagura didn't tell her _blood is red and not green_. She didn't tell her she was strange, either. She asked, "May I?" and Lisanna nodded. The stiff paper was folded and worked into Kagura's bra and then she was gone again. Lisanna wondered if she'd be back again tomorrow.

Movement near the entrance distracted her. She lifted her gaze and met familiar black eyes and realized that she was wrong; for the first time in years, she had a visitor other than Mira. Natsu smiled just slightly. When she stood and approached him, one of the guards opened the gate and let her out of the common room. Natsu took her hand and it was almost like no time had passed; if only for the murder she saw in his eyes. Natsu was thinking about doing something irrevocable and Lisanna thought she'd never loved him more.


	36. Chapter 36

Porous concrete held spray paint like nothing else; there was barely any runners, though it was fresh enough that the smell of paint was still in the air. Jellal studied the cartoon mailbox's toothy mouth open in vicious hunger with mild interest. Anything to keep himself distracted enough to not obsessively check his watch again. He told himself when he first walked in that once half past came, he'd call her a lost cause and go on his way. Thirty minutes late was more than generous enough.

If he checked now, he'd see thirty had come and gone.

The wall next to the one that held the doodled mailbox was packed full of tags. He actually liked graffiti. Tagging, though? It didn't take much skill to scribble your name on a wall. He wondered if Erza ever scrawled her name there when she was young. He was checking when he heard a decisive _click_ of a pair of heels. He turned slowly and felt a thrill move through him at the sight of her. The heels of her thigh-high leather boots never dipped into the cracks in the concrete and the short black dress she wore never came up further than it was meant to, betraying her. She'd forgotten a jacket, though there was still a bite in the wind; Jellal didn't think that the long-sleeves of her dress would be enough.

"I didn't think you'd still be here."

"Didn't I say eleven thirty?" Jellal fibbed.

Erza's smile came free. "Sure, we'll go with that, and I'm on time." She held up a clear grocery bag full of lime wedges. "Cut and salted."

Jellal pulled a brand new tequila bottle from the pocket of his beige trench coat and opened it and Erza crossed the final distance between them. Jellal offered the bottle to her first and she took out a lime. "You think you would have learned your lesson by now and not drink tequila."

"It's not always bad to me."

Erza got a mean glint in her eye and Jellal knew she was determined to make it that way for him tonight.

It took eight shots to pull out the shopping cart. Erza wanted him to climb into it this time so Jellal shucked off his coat and did the honours. Erza pushed him despite her heels, the tequila bottle still awkwardly in her hand.

"Give it to me," Jellal told her before they could really pick up speed and she shook her head.

"You'll drop it. Lie back." She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to the front of the cart. It wasn't comfortable. He stretched out his legs and put them over the cart. Erza looked down at him and there was life in her eyes. Her fingers tightened on the cart's handle and then she started to run. She weaved through pillars and empty parking spaces, her hair like a fiery trail, her laugh catching and spreading. Jellal joined her. Corners taken tightly made the cart come up on two wheels. Jellal leaned with Erza and brought it back on all fours. She picked up speed and did it again. This time, when the cart rocked and they corrected, they went too far and the powder-coated steel met the ground on the opposite side, spilling its cargo over the dry but cigarette butt-dusted ground. Jellal scraped his elbow and his knee, tearing his jeans and the navy button down shirt he'd put on, but otherwise, he was unharmed.

Erza staggered over to him, much less coordinated now. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Jellal got to his knees and stayed there for a moment while his head spun pleasantly. "Let's go again."

Erza's smile widened as a thought came to her. "We will. After."

"After what?"

With purpose, her steps became even again. As she prowled, she took the cap off the tequila and made a circle around him, stopping in front of his knees. "Remember?" she prodded in a voice like honeyed thorns. Jellal looked up the curving line of her body; the only light that dared eek in here was moonlight from the garage's entrance. It was enough to set her hair ablaze. It took so very little effort to lose himself in her. He did the same thing he always did when Erza turned her attention on him and forgot everything he knew. She lifted the tequila and like she wanted, he opened his lips and she poured the tequila in. Some splashed over his cheek, getting his shirt and his chest wet, some spilled on the ground. It wasn't champagne like that first time but it did go down smoothly. Erza took a drink herself and then sat in his lap. She used her tongue to gather what had slid down his neck and her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt. Jellal held her by the hips and, with his eyes closed, tipped his face to the ceiling. He couldn't taste lipstick or the gum she'd been chewing earlier; just tequila on her tongue.

* * *

"Your shaking."

"It's been a long time since I've had to do this," Eileen said.

"Does it make you sick?"

Knotting her fingers in Kyouka's hair brought back memories of late nights gone by. This was a very different kind of encounter. "Knowing you betrayed me does."

"You knew I was meeting with him," she spat angrily. "You should have said something. Or stopped it before it went on so long."

"Why would I? I wanted to see how far you were willing to go."

"As far as I had to."

Kyouka was always in it to win it. "I never would have let you live, Kyouka, but bringing my daughter into it assured your suffering."

"Erza." Kyouka laughed. "You're going to regret bringing her home. She's a dog that will bite your hand just as soon as she has the opportunity."

Eileen pulled Kyouka's hair tighter. "I know who my daughter is and, as I looked for your betrayal, I'll watch for hers, too. I'm not alive because I've been stupid, Kyouka."

"If you truly weren't stupid, _Tante_ , you'd kill me because I won't stay here. I'll get out of this room and make you regret every time you've laid your hands on me. You won't though, will you? You don't want to kill me. Too many memories? That's it, isn't it? Sentiment makes you _weak._ Kill me!"

She was right, it was harder to torture her than Eileen thought it might be, considering, but maybe she shouldn't have been surprised, they'd had a long and colourful relationship. "I'm going to keep you as a pet, Kyouka, and whatever I feel now... I'll practice and practice until I feel nothing."

She started then and didn't stop until Kyouka was crying.

* * *

Gildarts waited by the bar with a martini. Eileen took it from him and put herself between him and the counter, closer than she normally would bother getting. They had done this dance enough times that he _knew._ He stepped into her and brushed her scarlet locks from her shoulders.

"I'm not going to be very nice to you tonight, Gildarts." She was in the mood to tear. He should be warned; he'd earned that much.

"You're never very nice to me, _Tante_ , because _you're_ not very nice."

"At least you know." Tomorrow, she'd regret it but for now, she let herself get lifted up and used Gildarts as a distraction. By the end, he, too, was bleeding. With his sweat on her tongue she wondered vaguely if Acnologia would be as foolish as Gildarts and invite a spider into his home. As she said to Erza, he had his uses still but he wasn't yet pliable. Men were most tolerable when they were in appreciative awe of beautiful and deadly things. Before she killed him for all of his transgressions, she wanted everything. For a man like Acnologia, who only had _everything_ , stripping him down to his skin before slicing his throat would be the greatest blow.


End file.
